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JOSEPHINE. 



/BJafievs ot IbistocB 



Josephine 



Bv JACOB ABBOTT 



WITH ENGRAVINGS 




NEW YORK AND LONDON 

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

190 I 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
eight hundred and fift3''-one, by 

Hakpeb & Brotheus, 

ill the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
of New York. 

Copyright, 1879, by Susan Abbott Mkad, 



MAY 1 7 1945 






PREFACE. 



Maria Antoinette, Madame Roland, and 
Josephine are the three most prominent hero- 
ines of the French Revolution. The history 
of their lives necessarily records all the most 
interesting events of that most fearful tragedy 
which man has ever enacted. Maria Antoi- 
nette beheld the morning dawn of the Revo- 
lution; its lurid mid -day sun glared upon 
Madame Roland ; and Josephine beheld the 
portentous phenomenon fade away. Each of 
these heroines displayed traits of character 
worthy of all imitation. 'No one can read 
the history of their lives without being enno- 
bled by the contemplation of the fortitude 
and grandeur of spirit they evinced. To 
the young ladies of our land we especially 
commend the Heroines of the French Rev- 
olution. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter Page 

I. LIFE IN MARTINIQUE 13 

II. MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE - 31 

III. ARREST OF M. BEAUHARNAIS AND JOSEPHINE.- 48 

IV. SCENES IN PRISON 68 

V. THE RELEASE FROM PRISON 81 

VI. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY 105 

VII. JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON 130 

VIII. JOSEPHINE THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 149 

IX. DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER 171 

X. THE CORONATION 198 

XI. JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS 232 

XII. THE DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS 282 



ENGRAVINGS. 



Page 

THE SIBYL 24 

THE WARNING 58 

THE PANTOMIME 85 

ISOLA BELLA 109 

THE INTERVIEW 156 

THE CORONATION . 224 



JOSEPHINE, 

Chapter I. 
I^iFi!. IN Martinique. 



Mardnlque. Its rariofr feoatlos 

fllHE island of Martinique emerges in tropi- 
-■- cal luxuriance from the bosom of tLe Ca- 
ribbean Sea. A meridian sun causes the whole 
land to smile in perennial verdure, and all tht^ 
gorgeous flowers and luscious fruits of the torrid 
zone adorn upland and prairie in boundless pro- 
fusion. Mountains, densely wooded, rear their 
summits sublimely to the skies, and valleys 
charm the eye with pictures more beautiful 
than imagination can create. Ocean breezes 
ever sweep these hills and vales, and temper the 
heat of a vertical sun. Slaves, whose dusky 
limbs are scarcely veiled by the lightest cloth- 
ing, till the soil, while the white inhabitants, 
supported by the indolent labor of these unpaid 
menials, loiter away life in listless leisure and 
in rustic luxury Far removed from the dissi- 



14 Josephine. [A.D. 17C0 



Birth of Josephine. Her parents' death 

pating influences of European and American 
opulence, they dwell in their secluded island in 
a state of almost patriarchal simplicity. 

About the year 1760, a young French officer, 
( aptain Joseph Gaspard Tascher, accompanied 
his regiment of horse to this island. While 
here on professional duty, he became attached 
to a young lady from France, whose parents, 
formerly opulent, in consequence of the loss of 
property, had moved to the West Indies to re- 
trieve their fortunes. But little is known re- 
specting Mademoiselle de Sanois, this young 
lady, who was soon married to M. Tascher. 
Josephine was the only child born of this union 
In consequence of the early death of her mother, 
she was, while an infant, intrusted to the care 
of her aunt. Her father soon after died, and 
the little orphan appears never to have known 
a father's or a mother's love. 

Madame Renaudin, the kind aunt, who now, 
with maternal affection, took charge of the help- 
less infant, was a lady of wealth, and of great 
benevolence of character. Her husband was 
the owner of several estates, and lived surround- 
ed by all that plain and rustic profusion which 
characterizes the abode of the wealthy planter 
His large possessions, and his energy of oh arao 



A.D 1765.] Lii'E IN Martinique. 15 

M. Renaudin. HIb kind treatment of bis ilsres 

ter, gave him a wide influence over the island. 
He was remarkable for his humane treatment 
of his slaves, and for the successful manner with 
which he conducted the affairs of his plantations 
The general condition of the slaves of Martin- 
ico at this time was very deplorable ; but on 
the plantations of M. Renaudin there was as 
perfect a state of contentment and of happiness 
as is consistent with the deplorable institution 
of slavery. The slaves, many of them but re- 
cently torn from their homes in Africa, were 
necessarily ignorant, degraded, and supersti- 
tious. They knew nothing of those more ele- 
vated and refined enjoyments which the culti- 
vated mind so highly appreciates, but which are 
8o often also connected with the most exquisite 
suffering. Josephine, in subsequent life, gave 
a very vivid description of the wretchedness of 
the slaves in general, and also of the peace and 
harmony which, in striking contrast, cheered 
the estates of her uncle. When the days' tasks 
were done, the negroes, constitutionally light- 
hearted and merry, gathered around their cab- 
ins with songs and dances, often prolonged late 
into the hours of the night. They had never 
known any thing better than their present lot 
They compared their condition with that of the 



16 Josephine. [A.D. 1765 



Gratitude of the slaves. Josephine a nniversal favorit* 

slaves on the adjoining plantations, and exulted 
in view of their own enjoyments. M. and Mad- 
ame Renaudin often visited their cabins, spohe 
words of kindness to them in theii hours of 
sickness and sorrow, encouraged the formation 
of pure attachments and honorable marriage 
among the young, and took a lively interest in 
their sports. The slaves loved their kind mas- 
ter and mistress most sincerely, and manifested 
their affection in a thousand simple ways which 
touched the heart. 

Josephine imbibed from infancy the spirit of 
her uncle and aunt. She always spoke to t'' 
slaves in tones of kindness, and became a uni- 
versal favorite with all upon the plantations. 
She had no playmates but the little negroes 
and she united with them freely in all their 
sports. Still, these little ebon children of bond- 
age evidently looked up to Josephine as to a 
superior being. She was the queen around 
whom they circled in affectionate homage. The 
instinctive faculty, which Josephine displayed 
through life, of winning the most ardent love 
of all who met her, while, at the same time, she 
was protected from any undtre familiarity, she 
seems to have possessed even at that early day 
The children, who were her oojnpanions in aU 



A. D. 1765.] Life in Martinique. 17 

Hospitality of M. Renaudln Society at iaa bouaa. 

the sports of childhood, were also dutiful subjects 
ever ready to be obedient to her will. 

The social position of M. Rjnaudin, as oii€ 
of the most opulent and influential gentlemec 
of Martinique, necessarily attracted to his hos- 
pitable residence much refined and cultivated 
society. Strangers from Europe visiting the 
island, planters of intellectual tastes, and ladies 
of polished manners, met a cordial welcome be- 
neath the spacious roof of this abode, where all 
abundance was to be foun 1. Madame Renau- 
din had passed her early years in Paris, and her 
manners were embellished with tliat elegance 
and refinement which have given to Parisian 
society such a world-wide celebrity. There 
was, at that period, much more intercourse be- 
tween the mother country and the colonies than 
at the present day. Thus Josephine, though 
reared in a provincial home, was accustomed, 
from infancy, to associate with gentlemen and 
ladies who were familiar with the etiquette of 
the highest rank in society, and whose conver- 
gation was intellectual and improving. 

It at first view seems difficult to account foi 
the high degree of mental culture which Jo- 
«ephine displayed, when, seated by the side of 
Napoleon, she was i^e Empress of France 

R 



f8 Josephine. [A.D. 1765 

Ewly education of Josephine. Her acoompliehments 

Her remarks, her letters, her conversational ele- 
gance, gave indication of a mind thoroughly 
furnished with information and trained by se- 
vere discipline. And yet, from all the glimpses 
we can catch of her early education, it would 
seem that, with the exception of the accomplish- 
ments of music, dancing, and drawing, she was 
left very much to the guidance of her own in- 
stinctive tastes. But, like Madame Roland, 
she was blessed with that peculiar mental con- 
stitution, which led her, of her own accord, to 
treasure up all knowledge which books or con- 
versation brought within her reach. From 
childhood until the hour of her death, she was 
ever improving her mind by careful observation 
and studious reading. She played upon the 
harp with great skill, and sang with a voice of 
exquisite melod} . She also read with a correct- 
ness of elocution and a fervor of feeling which 
ever attracted admiration. The morning of her 
childhood was indeed bright and sunny, and 
her gladdened heart became so habituated to 
joyousness, that her cheerful spirit seldom failed 
her even in the darkest days of her calamity. 
I lei ])assionate love for /lowers had interested 
ner deeply in the study of botany, and she alsc. 
became very skillful in embroidery, that acconi 



\.D 1765.] Life in Martinique. 19 

euphemle. She becomes Josephine's bosom compaaloA 

plishment which was once deemed an essentia 
part of the education of every lady. 

Under such influences Josephine became 8 
child of such grace, beauty, and loveliness of 
character as to attract the attention and the 
admiration of all who saw her. There was an 
dffectionateness, simplicity, and frankness in her 
manners which won all hearts. Her most in- 
timate companion in these early years was a 
young mulatto girl, the daughter of a slave, and 
report said, with how much truth it is impossi- 
ble to know, that she was also the daughter of 
Captain Tascher before his marriage. Her 
jame was Euphemie. She was a year or two 
older than Josephine, but she attached herself 
with deathless affection to her patroness; and, 
though Josephine made her a companion and a 
confidante, she gradually passed, even in these 
early years, into the position of a maid of honor, 
and clung devotedly to her mistress through all 
the changes of subsequent life. Josephine, at 
this time secluded from all companionship with 
young ladies of her own rank and age, madd 
this humble but active-minded and intelligent 
girl her bosom companion. They rambled to- 
gether, the youthful mistress and her maid, in 
p<r ffiot harmony From Josephine's more high 



20 Josephine. [A.D. 177U 

Popularity of Josephine. Childhood enjoyniHiiU^ 

ly-cultivated mind the lowly-born child derived 
intellectual stimulus, and thus each day became 
a more worthy and congenial associate. Aa 
years passed on, and Josephine ascended intr 
higher regions of splendor, her humble attend* 
ant gradually retired into more obscure posi- 
tions, though she was ever regarded by her true- 
hearted mistress with great kindness. 

Josephine was a universal favorite with all 
the little negro girls of the plantation. They 
lOoked up' to her as to a protectress whom they 
loved, and to whom they owed entire homage. 
She would frequently collect a group of them 
under the shade of the luxuriant trees of that 
tropical island, and teach them the dances which 
she had learned, and also join with them as a 
partnei. She loved to assemble them around 
her, and listen to those simple negro melodies 
which penetrate every heart which can feel the 
power of music. Again, all their voices, in sweet 
harmony, blended with hers as she taught them 
the more scientific songs of Europe. She would 
listen with unaffected interest to their tales of 
sorrow, and weep with them. Often she inter- 
posed in thoir behalf that their tasks might be 
lightened, cr that a play-day might be allowed 
tnen Thus she was as much beloved and an. 



A.D. 1770.J Life jn Mar riNxQUK. 21 

Characteristic traits. Tba fortune tellei 

mired in the cabin of the poor negro as she was 
in her uncle's parlor, where intelligence an J re- 
finement were asserablt^d. This same charac- 
ter she displayed through the whole of her ca- 
rrier. Josephine upon the plantation and Jo- 
§ephine upon the throne — Josephine surrounded 
by the sable maidens of Martinique, and Jo- 
sephine moving in queenly splendor in the pal- 
aces of Versailles, w^ith all the courtiers of Eu- 
rope revolving arour/J her, displayed the same 
traits of character, and by her unaffected kind- 
ness won the heart .-'ike of the lowdy and of 
the exalted. 

About this time an occurrence took place 
wljich has attracted far more attention than 
it deserves. Josephine w^as one day walking 
under the shade of the trees of the plantation, 
when she saw a number of negro children 
gathered around an aged and withered negres.*. 
who had great reputation among the slaves a? 
a fortune-teller. Curiosity induced Josephine 
to draw near the group to hear what the sorcer- 
ess had to say. The eld sibyl, with the cunning 
which is characteristic of her craft, as soon as 
she saw Josephine approach, whom she knew 
perfectly, assumed an air of great agitation, 
and, seizing her hand violently, gazed with mos/ 



22 Josephine. [A.D. 1772 

Predictions ot the slbyL Credulitj 

earnest attention upon the lines traced upon the 
palm. The little negresses were perfectly awe- 
stricken by this orarular display. Josephine, 
however, was only amused, and smiling, said, 

" So you discover something very extraordi- 
nary in my destiny ?" 

*' Yes I" replied the negress, with an air of 
great solemnity. 

" Is happiness or misfortune to bo my lot T 
Josephine inquired. 

The negress again gazed upon her hand, and 
then replied, " Misfortune ;" but, after a mo- 
ment's pause, she added, ** and happiness too." 

" You must be careful, my good woman,' 
Josephine rejoined, " not to commit yourself 
Vour predictions are not very intelligible." 

The negress, raising her eyes with an expres- 
sion of deep mystery to heaven, rejoined, " 1 
am not permitted to render my revelations more 
clear." 

In every human heart there is a vein of cre-. 
dulity. The pretended prophetess had now suo 
oeeded in fairly arousing the curiosity of Jose- 
phine, who eagerly inquired, "What do you 
read respecting me in futurity ? Tell me ex- 
actly." 

Again the negress. assuming an air of pro. 



^..D 1772.] Life in Martiniquk. 25 



More predictione. The*T hilfillmeQl 



found solemnity, said, *' You will not believe 
me if I reveal to you your strange destiny." 

" Yes, indeed, I assure you that I will," Jo- 
icphine thoughtlessly replied. '* Come, good 
mother, do tell me what I have to hope and 
what to fear." 

"On your own head be it, then. Listen. 
You will soon be married. That union will not 
be happy. You will become a widow, and then 
you will be Queen cf France. Some hapj)Y 
years will be youis, but afterward you will die 
in a hospital, amid civil commotions." 

The old woman then hurried away. Jose- 
phine talked a few moments with the young ne- 
groes upon the folly of this pretended fortune- 
telling, and leaving them, the affair passed from 
her mind. In subsequent years, when toiling 
through the vicissitudes of her most eventful 
life, she recalled the singular coincidence be- 
tween her destiny and the prediction, and 
Beemed to consider that the negress, with pro- 
pkhetic vision, had traced out her wonderful ca 
rcer. 

But what is there so extraordinary in this 
narrative '' What maiden ever consulted a 
fortune-teller without receiving the agreeable 
innounoemeni that she was to wed beauty, and 



26 Josephine. [A D. 1772 



ExplanaticQS l« Che predicttoaa. How fulfilled 



wealth, and rank '* It was known universally, 
and it was a constant subject of plantation gos- 
sip, that the guardians of Josephine were con- 
templating a match for her with the son of a 
Qsighboring planter. The negroes did not think 
him half worthy of their adored and queenly Jo- 
sephine. They supposed, however, that the 
match was settled. The artful woman was 
therefore compelled to allow Josephine to marry 
at first the undistinguished son of the planter, 
with whom she couid not be happy. She, how- 
ever, very considerately lets the unworthy hus- 
band in a short time die, and then Josephine 
becomes a queen. This is the old story, which 
has been repeated to half the maidens in Chris- 
tendom. It is not very surprising that in this 
one case it should have happened to prove true. 
But, unfortunately, our prophetess went a lit- 
tle farther, and predicted that Josephine would 
die in a hospital — implying pDverty and aban- 
donment. This part of the prediction proved to 
bo utterly untrue. Josephine, instead of dying 
in a hospital, died in the beautiful palace of Mai- 
maison. Instead of dying in poverty, she was 
one of the richest ladies in Europe, receiving 
an income of some six hundred thousand dollars 
a year The grounds around her palaoe were 



^.D. 1772.] Life in Martinique. 2V 



Falsity of the prediction. Contemplated match 

embellished with all the attractions, and he? 
apartments furnished with every luxury which 
opulence could provide. Instead of dying in 
friend lessn ess and neglect, the Emperor Alex- 
ander of Russia stood at her bedside ; the most 
illustrious kings and nobles of Europe crowded 
her court and did her homage. And though 
she was separated from her husband, she still 
retained the title of Empress, and was the ob- 
ject of his most sincere affection and esteem. 

Thus this prediction, upon which so much 
stress has been laid, seems to vanish in the air 
It surely is not a supernatural event that a 
young lady, who was told by an aged negress 
that she would be a queen, happened actually 
to become one. 

We have alluded to a contemplated match 
between Josephine and the son of a neighbor- 
ing planter. An English family, who had lost 
property and rank in the convulsions of those 
times, had sought a retreat in the island of Mar- 
tinique, and were cultivating an adjoining plan^ 
tation. In this family there was a very pleas- 
ant lad, a son, of nearly the same age with Jo- 
sephine. The plantations being ne&r to each 
other, they were often companions and play- 
mates. A strong attachment grew up between 



^h Josephine [A.D.177S 



detachment betiveen Josephin? and William. Their separaCioD 

them. The parents? of William, and the uncle 
and aunt of Josephine, approved cordially of this 
ittachment, and were desirous that these youth- 
ful hearts should be united, as soon as the parties 
ihould arrive at mature age. Josephine, in the 
ingenuous artlessness of her nature, disguised 
not in the least her strong affection for William 
And his attachment to her was deep and endur- 
ing. The solitude of their lives peculiarly tend- 
ed to promote fervor of character. 

Matters were in this state, when the father of 
William received an intimation from England 
that, by returning to his own country, he might, 
perhaps, regain his lost estates. He immedi- 
ately prepared to leave the island with his fam- 
ily. The separation was a severe blow to these 
youthful lovers. They wept, and vowed eternal 
fidelity. 

It is not surprising that Josephine should 
have been in some degree superstitious. The 
peculiarity of her life upon the plantation — her 
jonstant convrerse with the negroes, whose minds 
«rore imbued with all the superstitious notions 
which they had brought from Africa, united 
with those which they had found uj)on the isl- 
and, tended to foster those feelings. Rousseau, 
the most popular and univ<».rsally-read French 



A. D. 1774.) Life \s Martinique 29 

Roaaeau throwing stones. Josephine's superstitioii 

writer of that day, in his celebrated "Confes- 
sions," records with perfect composure that hfc 
was one day sitting in a grove, meditating 
whether his soul would probably be saved o» 
lost. He felt that the question was of the u^ 
most importance. How could he escape from 
the uncertainty ! A supernatural voice seemed 
to suggest an appeal to a singular kind of au- 
gury. " I will," said he, " throw this stone at 
that tree. If I hit the tree, it shall be a sign 
that my soul is to be saved. If I miss it, it 
shall indicate that I am to be lost." He select- 
ed a large tree, took the precaution of getting 
very near to it, and threw his stone plump 
against the trunk. " After that," says the 
philosopher, " 1 never again had a doubt re- 
specting my salvation." 

Josephine resorted to the same kind of au- 
gury to ascertain if William, who had become 
a student in the University at Oxford, still re- 
mained faithful to her. She not unfrequently 
attempted to beguile a weary hour in throwing 
pebbles at tne trees, that she might divine 
whether William were then thinking of rior 
Months, however, passed away, and she re- 
ceived no tidings from him. Though she had 
often written, her letters remained unanswered 



80 Josephine. [A.D. 1775 



Deneption of friends. Mutual fidelity 

tier feelings were the more deeply wounded, 
since there were other friends upon the island 
with whom he kept up a correspondence ; but 
Josephine never received even a message through 
iiem. 

One day, as she was pensively rambling in a 
^Tove, where she had often walked with her ab- 
sent lover, she found carved upon a tree the 
names of William and Josephine. She knew 
well by whose hand they had been cut, and, en- 
tirely overcome with emotion, she sat down and 
wept bitterly. "With the point of a knife, and 
with a trembling hand, she inscribed in the bark 
these words, peculiarly characteristic of her 
depth of feeling, and of the gentleness of hei 
spirit : " Unhappy William ! thou hast forgot- 
ten me !" 

William, howover, had not forgotten her, 
A.gain and again he had written in terms of 
che most ardent affection. But the friends of 
Josephine, meeting with an opportunity for a 
.natch for her which they deemed far more a J 
vantageous, had destroyed these communica 
tions, and also had prevented any of her letters 
from reaching the hand of William. Thus each, 
while cherishing the truest affection, deemed the 
f)th('-i faithless. 



A D. 1775.] Marriage of Josephine. 3] 

Alexander de Beauharnak. Ilia char&OM 



Chapter II. 
The Marriage of Josephine, 

JOSEPHINE was about fourteen years of 
age when she was separated from William 
A year passed away, during which she received 
not a line from her absent friend. About this 
time a gentleman from France visited her uncle 
upon business of great importance. Viscount < 
Alexander de Beauharnais was a fashionable 
and gallant young man, about thirty years of 
age, possessing much conversational ease and 
grace of manner, and accustomed to the most 
polished society of the French metropolis. H<' 
hold a commission in the army, and had already 
signalized himself by several acts of bravery 
His sympathies had been strongly aroused by 
the struo^wle of the American colonists with th? 
mother country, and he had already aided th^, 
colonists both with his sword and his purse. 

Several large and valuable estates in Mar- 
tinique, adjoining the plantation of M. Renau- 
din, had fallen by inheritance to this young offi- 
per and his brother, the Marquis of Beauhar- 



32 Josephine. [A.D. 17V5 

A new suitor. Motives fcr the marriage 

nais. He visited Martinique to secure the proof 
of his title to these estates. ]\I. Renaudin held 
some of these plantations on lease. In the 
transaction of this business, Beauharnais spent 
much time at the mansion of M. Renaudin 
He, of course, saw much of the beautiful Jo- 
<^ephine, and was fascinated with her grace, and 
ner mental and physical loveliness. 

The uncle and aunt of Josephine were delight- 
ed to perceive the interest which their niece had 
awakened in the bosom of the interesting stran- 
ger. His graceful figure, his accomplished per- 
son, his military celebrity, his social rank, and 
his large fortune, all conspired to dazzle their 
eyes, and to lead them to do every thing in their 
power to promote a match apparently so eligi- 
ble. The ambition of M. Renaudin was moved 
at the thought of conferring upon his niece, th« 
prospective heiress of his own fortune, an estate 
so ma2:nificent as the united inheritance. Joso- 
phine, however, had not yet forgotten William 
and, though interested in her uncle's guest, fc? 
»>me time allowed no emotion of love to flow oul 
toward him. 

One morning Josephine was sitting in the 
library in pensive musings, when her uncle came 
Int'i the room to open to her the subject of h^r 



A.D.J 775.] Marriage of Josephine 3j 



rhe announcement Feelings of Josephinn 

contemplated marriage with M. Beauharnais. 
Josephine was thunderstruck at the communi- 
cation, for, according to the invariable custom 
3f the times, she knew that she ?ould have but 
little voice in the choice of a partner for life. 
For a short time she listened in silence to his 
proposals, and then said, w''*^h tears in her eyes, 

" Dear uncle, I implore yuii lu remember that 
my affections are fixed upon William. I have 
been solemnly promised to him." 

" That is utterly impossible, my child," her 
uncle replied. " ''circumstances are changed. 
Ail our hopes are centered in you. Yon must 
obey our wishes." 

" And v/hy," said she, " have you changed 
your intentions in reference to William?" 

Her uncle replied : " You will receive by in- 
oeritance all my estate. M. Beauharnais pos- 
sesses the rich estates adjoining. Your union 
unites the property. M. Beauharnais is ev. 
ery thing which can be desired in a husband 
Besides, William appears to have fo."gotten 
vou." 

To this last remark Josephine could make 

ao reply. She looked sadly upon the floor and 

was silent. It is said that her uncle had ther 

u his possession several letters which Williaro 

C 



34 Josephine. [A.D 1775 

Zeal of M. Beauhamais. The engagement 

had written her, replete with the most earnest 
spirit of constancy and affection. 

Josephine, but fifteen years of age, could not, 
ander these circumstances, resist the influences 
Qjw brought tf bear upon her. M. Beauhar- 
aais was a gentleman of fascinating accomplish- 
ments The reluctance of Josephine to become 
his bride but stimulated his zeal to obtain her. 
In the seclusion of the plantation, and far le- 
moved from other society, she was necessarily 
with him nearly at all hours. They read to 
gether, rode on horseback side by side, rambled 
in the groves in pleasant companionship. They 
floated by moonlight upon the water, breathing 
the balmy air of that delicious clime, and unit- 
ing their voices in song, the measure being 
timed with the dipping of the oars by the ne- 
groes. The friends of Josephine were importu- 
nate for the match. At last, reluctantly she 
gave her consent. Having done this, she al 
[owed her affections, unrestrained, to ropo&e 
upon her betrothed. Though her neart still 
slung to William, she thought that he had found 
othei friends in England, in whose pleasant com- 
panionship he had lost all remembrance of the 
island maiden who had won his early love. 

Al'^xander Beauharnais. soon alter his en 



A.D. 1775.] Marriage of Josei^hine. Su 

Departure from Martinique. Paiting Bceoe* 

gagement to Josephine, embarked for Franoet 
A^rrangements had been made for Josephine, in 
the course of a few months, to follow him, upon 
a visit to a relative in Paris, and there the nup- 
tials were to be consummated. Josephine was 
now fifteen years of age. She was attached 
to Beauharnais, but not with that fervor of feel- 
ing which had previously agitated her heart. 
She often thought of William and spoke of him, 
and at times had misgivings lest there might 
be some explanation of his silence. But months 
had passed on, and she had received no letter or 
message from him. 

At length the hour for her departure from the 
island arrived. With tearful eyes and a sad- 
dened heart she left the land of her birth, and 
the scenes endeared to her by all the recollec- 
tions of childhood. Groups of negroes, from 
the tottering infant to the aged man of gray 
hairs, surrounded her with weeping and loud 
lamentation. Josephine hastened on board, the 
«hip got under way, anJ soon the island of 
Martinicjue disappeared beneath the watery hor 
izon. Josephine sat upon the deck i/i p^^rfect 
silence, watching the dim outline of her beloved 
home till it was lost to sight. Her young heart 
was full of anxiety, of tenderness, and of regrets 



36 JosEPi^iNE. |A.D. 1775 

•naephlne's arrival in France. Her interview with Williaia 

fjittle, however, could she imagine the caroei 
of strans^e vicissitudes upon v/hich she was 
ahout to enter. 

The voyage was long and tempestuous 
Storms pursued them all the way. At one 
time the ship was dismasted and came near 
foundering. At length the welcome cry of 
** Land" was heard, and Josephine, an unknown 
orphan child of fifteen, placed her feet upon the 
shores of France, that country over which she 
was soon to reign the most renowned empress. 
She hastened to Fontainebleau, and was there 
met by Alexander Beauharnais. He received 
her with great fondness, and was assiduous in 
bestowing upon her the most flattering atten 
tions. But Josephine had hardly arrived at Fon- 
tainebleau before she heard that William and 
his father were also residing at that place. Her 
whole frame trembled like an aspen leaf, and 
her heart sunk within her as she received the 
intelligence. All her long-cherished affection 
for the companion of her childhood was icvivod, 
and still she knew not but that William wa? 
faithless. He, however, immediately called, 
with his father, to see her. The interview was 
most embarrassing, for each loved the other in- 
tensely, and each had reason to believe that the< 



A.D. 1775.] Marriage of Josephine. 37 

Exp!anati(/n of William. Distiesa of Jonephincv 

other had proved untrue. The next day Will- 
iam called alone; Josephine, the betrothed bride 
of Beauharnais, prudently declined seeing him 
He then wrote her a letter, which he bribed a 
servant to place in her hands, full of protesta 
fcions of love, stating how he had written to her, 
and passionately inquiring why she turned so 
coldly from him. 

Josephine read the letter with a bursting 
heart. She now saw how she had been de- 
ceived. She now was convinced that William 
had proved faithful to her, notwithstanding ho 
had so much reason to believe that she had been 
untrue to him. But what could she do ? She 
was but fifteen years of age. She was sur- 
rounded only by those who were determined 
that she should marry Alexander Beauharnais. 
She was told that the friends of William had 
decided unalterably that he should marry an 
English heiress, and that the fortunes of his 
lather's family were dependent upon that alii- 
ance. The servant who had been the boarsi 
of William's epistle was dismissed, and the 
other servants were commanded not to allow 
him to enter the house. 

The agitation of Josephine's heart was such 
that for some time she was unable to leave hei 



Sb J o s E !• H I xN E. [A.D. 1775i 



loeepbine retires to a convent. She marries the Viscount Beauhamais 

bed. She entreated her friends to allow her for 
a few nnonths to retire to a convent, that she 
might, iii solitary thought and prayer, regain 
composure. Her friends consented to this ar- 
rangement, and she took refuge in the convent 
at Panthemont. Here she spent a few months 
in inexpressible gloom. William made many 
unavailing efforts to obtain an interview, and 
at last, in despair, reluctantly received the 
wealthy bride, through whom he secured an 
immense inheritance, and with whom he passed 
an unloving life. 

The Viscount Beauharnais often called to see 
her, and was permitted to converse with her at 
the gate of her window. In the simplicity of 
her heart, she told her friends at the convent 
of her attachment for William ; how they had 
been reared together, and how they had lo\ed 
from childhood. She felt that it was a cruel 
fate which separated them, but a fate before 
which each must inevitably bow. At last she 
calmly made up her mind to comply with the 
wishes of her friends, and to surrender herself 
to the Viscount Beauharnais. There was much 
in the person and character of Beauharnais to 
render him very attractive, and she soon be- 
eame sincerely, though never Dassionately, at- 
tarheA to hirr 



^.D. 1777.] Marriage of Josephine. 'S^ 

Fashionable life. Josephine is introduced at court 

Ji)sepliine was sixteen years of age when she 
wa3 married. Her social position was in the 
midst of the most expensive and fashionable so- 
ciety of Paris. She was immediately involveJ 
in all the excitements of parties, and balls, 
and gorgeous entertainments. Her beauty, her 
grace, her amiability, and her peculiarly musi- 
cal voice, which fell like a charm upon every ear, 
excited great admiration and not a little envy, 
ft was a dangerous scene into which to intro- 
duce the artless and inexperienced Creole girl, 
and she was not a little dazzled by the splen- 
dor with which she was surrounded. Every 
thing that could minister to convenience, or 
that could gratify taste, was lavished profusel}' 
around her. For a time she was bewildered by 
the novelty of her situation. But soon she be- 
came weary of the heartless pageantry of fash- 
ionable life, and sighed for the tranquil enjoy- 
ments of her island home. 

Her husband, proud of her beauty and ac- 
complishments, introduced her at court. Maria 
Antoinette, who had then just ascended tlic' 
throne, and was in the brilliance of her youth, 
and beauty, and early popularity, was charmed 
v^th the West Indian bride, and received hei 
^i ithout the formality of a public pxesentation 



40 Josephine. [A.D. 177J3 



Maria Antoinette and Josephine. French philosophy 

When these two young brides met in the regaJ 
palace of Versailles — the one a daughter of Ma- 
ria Theresa and a descendant of the Csesars 
who had come from the court of Austria tc be 
not only the queen, but the brightest ornament 
tf the court of France — the other the child of 
a planter, born upon an obscure island, reared 
in the midst of negresses, as almost her only 
companions — -little did they imagine that Maria 
Antoinette was to go down, down, down to the 
lowest state of ignominy and wo, while Jose- 
phine was to ascend to more and more exalted 
stations, until she should sit upon a throne more 
glorious than the Caesars ever knew. 

French philosophy had at this time under- 
mined the religion of Jesus Christ. All that is 
sacred in the domestic relations was withering 
beneath the blight of infidelity. Beauharnais, 
a man of fashion and of the world, had imbibed, 
to the full, the sentiments which disgraced the 
age. Marriage w^as, deemed a partnership, to 
be formed or dissolved at pleasure. Fi-delity to 
the nuptial tie was the jest of philosophers and 
witlings. Josephine had soon the mortification 
of seeing a proud, beautiful, ahd artful woman 
taking her place, and openly and triumphantly 
claiming the attentions and the affections of hei 



A.. D. 1780.] Marriage of Josephine 41 



Birth of a daughter. Infidelity of Beauhamal* 

husband. This woman, high in rank, loved U 
torture her poor victim. "Your dear Alexan- 
der," she said to Josephine, "daily lavishes upon 
others the tribute of attachment which you think 
he reserves solely for you." She could not bear 
to see the beautiful and virtuous Josephine 
nappy, as the honored wife of her guilty lover, 
and she resolved, if possible, to sow the seeds 
01 jealousy so effectually between them as to 
secure a separation. 

in the year 1780 Josephme gave birth to nei 
daughter Hortense. This event seemed for a 
time to draw back the wandering affections of 
Beauharnais. He was really proud of his wife. 
He admired her beauty and her grace. He 
doted upon his infant daughter. But he was 
an infidel. He recognized no law of God, com- 
manding purity of heart and life, and he con- 
tended that Josephine had no right to complain, 
as long as he treated her kindly, if he did in- 
dulge in the waywardness of passion. 

The path of Josephine was now, indeed, 
shrouded in gloom, and each day seemed to 
grow darker and darker. Hortense became her 
idol and her on'/ comfort Her husband lav- 
ished upon her those luxuries which his wealth 
bnabled him to grant. He was kind to her in 



42 Josephine. [A.D. 1780 



Birth of a son. An arch deceit ei 

words and in all the ordinary courtesies of in- 
tercourse. But Josephine's heart was well-nigh 
broken. A few years of conflict passed slowly 
away, when she gave birth, in the year 1783, 
to her son Eugene. In the society of her chil- 
dren the unhappy mother found now her only 

While the Viscount Beauharnais was ready 
tc defend his own conduct, he was by no means 
willing that his wife should govern herself by 
the same principles of fashionable philosophy. 
The code infidel is got up for the especial ben- 
efit of dissolute men ; their wives must be gov- 
erned by another code. The artful woman, 
who was the prime agent in these difficulties, 
affected great sympathy with Josephine in her 
sorrows, protested her own entire innocence, 
but assured her that M. Beauharnais was an in- 
grate, entirely unworthy of her affections. She 
deceived Josephine, hoarded up the confidence 
of her stricken heart, and conversed with hei 
about William^ the memory of whose faithful 
love now came with new freshness to the dis- 
consolate wife. 

Josephine, lured by her, wrote a letter to hei 
frien Is in Martinique, in which she imprudently 
B^-^d, ''Were it not for my children, I should 



A..D. 1783.] Marriage of Josephine. 42 

Josephine betrayed. Application for a divorce 

without a pang, renounce France forever. My 
duty requires me to forget William ; and yet 
if we had been united together, 1 should not to- 
c'ay have been troubling you with my griefs." 
The woman who instigated her to write this 
letter was infamous enough to obtain it by 
stealth and show it to Beauharnais. His jeal- 
ousy and indignation were immediately aroused 
to the highest pitch. He was led by this ma- 
licious deceiver to believe that Josephine had 
obtained secret interviews with William, and 
the notoriously unfaithful husband was exas- 
perated to the highest degree at the very sus- 
picion of the want of fidelity in his wife. He 
reproached her in language of the utmost se- 
verity, took Eugene from her, and resolved to 
endeavor, by legal process, to obtain an entire 
divorce. She implored him, for the sake of her 
children, not to proclaim their difficulties to the 
world. He, however, reckless of consequences, 
made application to the courts for the annul- 
ment of the matrimonial bond. Josephine was 
now compelled to defend her own character. 
She again retired with Hortense to the convent, 
and there, through dreary months <( solitude, 
and silence, and dejection, awaited the result of 
the trial UDon which her reputation as a vir 



44 Josephine. [A.D. 1784 

Jo8«phine triumphant Visit to Versailles 

tuous woman was staked. The decree of the 
court was triumphantly in her favor, and Jo- 
sephine returned to her friends to receive theii 
congratulations, but impressed with the oonvio- 
tion that earth had no longer a joy in store foi 
her. Her friends did all in their power to cheer 
her desponding spirit ; but the wound she had 
received was too deep to be speedily healed. 
One day her friends, to divert her mind from 
brooding over irreparable sorrows, took her, al- 
most by violence, to Versailles. They passed 
over the enchanting grounds, and through the 
gorgeously-furnished apartments of the Great 
and Little Trianon, the favorite haunts of Ma* 
ria Antoinette. Here the beautiful Queen of 
France was accustomed to lay aside tha pa- 
geantry of royalty, and to enjoy, without re- 
straint, the society of those who were dear to 
hei , Days of darkness and trouble had already 
begun to darken around her path. As Jose- 
phine was looking at some of the works of art, 
she was greatly surprised at the entrance of tho 
queen, surrounded by several ladies of her court. 
Maria Antoinette immediately lecogni^ed Jo- 
sephine, and with that air of affability and kind- 
ness which ever characterized her conduct^ she 
approached her, and, with one of her winning 



A.D. 1784.] Mariiiage or Josephine 45 

Interview with Maria Antoinette. Kindness of the queen 



smiles, said, " Madame Beauharnais, I am very 
happy to see you at the two Trianons. You 
well know how to appreciate their beauties, i 
should be much pleased to learn what objects 
you consider most interesting. I shall always 
receive you with pleasure." 

These words from the queen were an un- 
speakable solace to Josephine. Her afflicted 
heart needed the consolation. The queen was 
acquainted with her trials, and thus nobly as- 
sured her of her sympathy and her confidence. 
In a few days Maria Antoinette invited Jose- 
phine to a private interview. She addressed 
her in words of the utmost kindness, promised 
to watch over the interests of her son, and at 
the same time, as a mark of her especial regard, 
she took from her neck an antique ornament of 
precious stones, and passed it over the neck of 
Josephine. The king also himself came in at 
the interview, for his heart had been softened 
by sorrow, and addressed words of consolatica 
to the injured and discarded wife. 

Josephine now received letters from Marti- 
nique earnestly entreating her to return, with 
her children, to the home of her childhood. 
World-weary, she immediately resolved to ao- 
copt the invitation. But the thought of cross*- 



46 Joseph NE. [A.D. 1784 



foeepbine embarks for Martinique. Hours of deepondency 

ing the wide ocean, and leaving her son Eugene 
behind, was a severe pang to a mother's heart. 
Eugene had been taken from her and sent to a 
boarding-school. Josephine felt so deeply the 
pang of separation from her beloved child, that 
she obtained an interview with M. Beauharnais, 
and implored him to allow her to take Eugene 
with her. He gave a cold and positive refusal. 
A few days after this, Josephine, cruelly sep- 
arated from her husband and bereaved of her 
son, embarked with Hortense for Martinique. 
She strove to maintain that aspect of cheerful- 
ness and of dignity which an injured but inno- 
cent woman is entitled to exhibit. When dark 
hours of despondency overshadowed her, she 
tiiedto console herself with the beautiful thought 

o 

of Plautus : " If we support adversity with cour- 
age, we shall have a keener relish for returning 
prosperity." It does not appear that she had 
any refuge in the consolations of religion. She 
hail a vague and general idea of the goodness 
nf a superintending Providence, but she was 
apparently a stranger to those warm and glow- 
ing revelations of Christianity which introduce 
us to a sympathizing Savior, a guiding and con- 
soling Spirit, a loving and forgiving Father 
Could she then, by faith, have reposed her ach- 



A..D. 1785.] Marriage of Josephine. 47 

Josephine arrives at Martinique. Her kitd reception. 

ing head upon the bosom of her heavenly Fa- 
ther, she might have found a solace such as 
nothing else could confer. But at this time 
nearly every mind in France was more or less 
larkened by the glooms of infidelity. 

The winds soon drove her frail bark across 
the Atlantic, and Josephine, pale and sorrow- 
stricken, was clasped in the arms and folded to 
the hearts of those who truly loved her. The 
alfectionate negroes gathered around her, with 
loud demonstrations of their sympathy and their 
joy in again meeting their mistress. Here, 
amid the quiet scenes endeared to her by the 
recollections of childhood, she found a tempo- 
rary respite from those storms by which she 
had been so severely tossed upon life's wild &nd 
tempestuous ocean 



48 Josephine. [A.D 1786 



Sadnt]»B of Josephine Dissipation of Beauhamait 



Chapter III. 

A.RREST OF M. BeaUHARNAIS A.ND JoSE 
PHINE. 

TOSEPHINE remained in Martinique three 
*^ years. She passed her time in tranquil sad- 
ness, engaged in reading, in educating Hortense, 
and in unwearied acts of kindness to those around 
her. Like all noble minds, she had a great fond- 
ness for the beauties of nature. The luxuriant 
groves of the tropics, the serene skip's which 
overarched her head, the gentle zep'j^rs which 
breathed through orange groves, all were con- 
genial with her pensive spirit. The thoughi 
of Eugene, her beautiful boy, so far from her, 
preyed deeply upon her heart. Often she re- 
tired alone to some of those lonely walks which 
ehe loved so well, and wept over her alienated 
husband and her lost child. 

M. Beauharnais surrendered himself for s 
limo, without restraint, to every indulgence. 
He tried, in the society of sin and shame, to 
forget his wife and his absent daughter. He, 
however, soon found that no friend can take the 
place of a vixtuous and an affectionate wife 



A..D. 1786] ARREtr of Beauharna.s. 49 



Repentance of Beauhamaia. Josephine returns to Franc* 

The memory of Josephine's gentleness, and ten. 
derness, and love came flooding back upon his 
h 3art. He became fully convinced of his in- 
justice to her, and earnestly desired to have 
her restored again to him and to his home. He 
sent communications to Josephine, expressive 
of his deep regret for the past, promising amend- 
ment for the future, assuring her of his high 
appreciation of her elevated and hoiioiable char 
acter, and imploring her to return with Hor- 
tens*^., thus to reunite the divided and sorrow- 
stricken household. It was indeed a gratifica- 
tion to Josephine to receive from her husband 
the acknowledgment that she had never ceased 
to deserve his confidence. The thought of again 
pressing Eugene to her bosom filled a mother's 
heart with rapture. Still, tl le griefs which had 
weighed upon her were so heavy, that she con- 
fessed to her friends that, were it not for the 
love which she bore Eugene, she would greatly 
prefer to spend the remnant of her days upoh 
her favorite island. Her friends did every thing 
in their power to dissuade her from leaving 
Martinique. But a mother's undying love tri- 
umphed, anl again she embarked for France. 

In subsequent years, when surrounded by 
all the splendors of rov9.1ty, she related to some 

D 



50 Josephine. [A.D.1786 

The jewels. Anecdote of the old shoe* 

jf the ladies of her court, with that unaffected 
simplicity which ever marked her character, 
the following incident, which occurred during 
this voyage. The ladies were admiring some 
brilliant jewels which were spread out before 
them. Josephine said to them, ^' My young 
friends, believe me, splendor does not consti- 
tute happiness. I at one time received greater 
enjoyment from the gift of a pair of old shoes 
than all these diamonds have ever afforded me." 
The curiosity of her auditors was, of course, 
greatly excited, and they entreated her to ex- 
plain her meaning. 

" Yes, young ladies," Josephine continued, 
"of all the presents I ever received, the one 
which gave me the greatest pleasure was a pair 
of old shoes, and those, too, of coarse leather 
When I last returned to France from Marti- 
nique, having separated from my first husband 
I was far from rich. The passage-money e> 
hausted my resources, and it was not witho 
lifficulty that I obtained the indispensable re^ 
juisites for our voyage. Hortense, obliging and 
ivel} performing with much agility the dances 
of the negroes, and singing their songs with 
Burprising correctness, greatly amused the sail- 
ors, who, from being her constant play-fellows, 



A.D. 1786.J Arrest of Beauharnais 51 

Uortease without ihoeB. The kind old sailor. 

had become her favorite society. An old sailoi 
became particularly attached to the child, and 
she doted upon the old man. What with run- 
ling, leaping, and walking, my daughter's slight 
ihoes were fairly worn out. Knowing that she 
bad not another pair, and fearing I would for- 
bid her going upon deck, should this defect in 
her attire be discovered, Hortense carefully con- 
cealed the disaster. One day 1 experienced the 
distress of seeing her return from the deck leav- 
ing every foot-mark in blood. When examin- 
ing how matters stood, I found her shoes lit- 
.*rally in tatters, and her feet dreadfully torn by 
a nail. We were as yet not more than half 
way across the ocean, and it seemed impossible 
to procure another pair of shoes. I felt quite 
overcome at the idea of the sorrow my poor Hor- 
tense would suffer, as also at the danger to which 
her health might be exposed by confinement in 
my miserable little cabin. At this moment our 
good friend, the old sailor, entered and inquired 
the cause of our distress. Hortense, sobbmg 
all the while, eagerly informed him that she 
oould no more go upon deck, for her shoes were 
worn out, and mamma had no others to give 
her. * Nonsense,' said the worthy seaman, 'is 
that all ? I have an old pair somewhere in m^ 



52 Josephine. [A D. 1786 

The shoes made. £v 3ntful life of Horteiuw 

chest ; I will go and seek them. You, madam 
can cut them to shape, and I will splice them 
wp as well as need be.' Without waiting for a 
reply, away hastened the kind sailor in search 
cf his old shoes ; these he soon after brought to 
us with a triumphant air, and they were re- 
ceived by Hortense with demonstrations of the 
most lively joy. We set to work with all zeal, 
and before the day closed my daughter could 
resume her delightful duties of supplying their 
evening's diversion to the crew. I again repeat, 
never was present received with greater thank- 
fulness. It has since often been matter of self- 
reproach that I did not particularly inquire into 
the name and history of our benefactor. It 
would have been gratifying for me to have done 
something for him when afterward means were 
in my power." 

Poor Hortense ! most wonderful were the vi- 
cissitudes of her checkered and joyless life. We 
here meet her, almost an infant, in poverty and 
obscurity. The mother and child arrive in Pal- 
is on the morning of that Reign of Terror, the 
story of which has made the ear of humanity 
to tingle. Hortense is deprived of both her par- 
ents, and is left in fri endlessness and beggary 
in the streets of Paris. A charitable neigbbol 



A..D.1736.] Arrest of Be auiiakna.is. 53 

Vlairtajfe of Hortenee Queen of Ilor.and 

cherished and fed her. Her mother is liberated, 
and mairied to Napoleoii ; and Hortense, ag 
daughter of the emperor, is surrounded with, 
iazzling splendor, such as earth has seldor^ wit- 
atjssed. We now meet Hortense, ra*:^^. Xt in 
youthful beauty, one of the most admired and 
courted in the midst of the glittering throng, 
which, like a fairy vision, dazzles all eyes in 
the gorgeous apartments of Versailles and St. 
Cloud. Her person is adorned with the most 
costly fabrics and the most brilliant gems which 
Europe can afford. The nobles and )rinces of 
the proudest courts vie with each other for the 
honor of her hand. She is led to her sumptu- 
ous bridals by Louis Bonaparte, brother of the 
emperor ; becomes the spouse of a king, and 
takes her seat upon the throne of Holland. But 
in the midst of all this external splendor she is 
wretched at heart. Not one congenial feeling 
unites her with the companion to whom she is 
bound. Louis, weary of regal pomp and con- 
straint, abdicates the throne, and Hortense be. 
35«)mes unendurably weary of her pensive and 
anambitious spouse. They agree to separate ; 
each to journey along, unattended by the othei, 
the remainder of life's pilgrimage. HorterM 
leeks a joyless refuge in a secliided castle, in 



54 Josephine. [A.D 17S6 

Dea Ji of Hortense. Meeting of Josephine and Bea'iharnaU 

one of the most retired valleys of Switzerland. 
The tornado of counter-revolution sweeps ovei 
Europe, and all her exalted friends and tower- 
ing hopes are prostrated in the dust. Linger 
ing years of disappointment and sadness pass 
over her, and old age, with its infirmities, places 
tier upon a dying bed. One only child, Louis 
Napoleon, since President of the French Repub- 
lic, the victim of corroding ambition and cease 
lessly-gn awing discontent, stands at her bed 
side to close her eyes, and to follow her, a soli 
tary and lonely mourner, to the grave. The 
dream of life has passed. The shadow has van- 
ished away. Who can fathom the mystery of 
the creation of such a drama ? 

Josephine arrived in France. She was re- 
ceived most cordially by her husband. Sorrow- 
ful experience had taught him the value of a 
home, and the worth of a pure and a sanctified 
love. Josephine again folded her idolized Eu- 
gene in her arms, and the anguish of past years 
was forgotten in the blissful enjoyments of a re. 
united family. These bright and happy days 
were, however, soon again clouded. The French 
Revolution was now in full career. The king 
and queen were in prison. All law was pros- 
trate. M. Beauharnais, at the commpocempnt 



A.D 1787.] Arrest of bEAUHARNAis. 5* 

Influentinl character of Beauhamais. Jacobins and Cfirondisto 



of the Revolution, had most cordially espoused 
the cause of popular liberty. He stood by the 
•side of La Fayette a companion and a support- 
er His commanding character gave him great 
[nnuence. He was elected a deputy to the Con- 
stituent Assembly, and took an active part in 
its proceedings. Upon the dissolution of this 
Assembly, or States-General, as it was also 
called, as by vote none of its members were im- 
mediately re-eligible, he retired again to the 
army ; but when the second or Legislative As- 
sembly was dissolved and the National Conven- 
tion was formed, he was returned as a mem- 
Dcr, and at two successive sessions was elected 
its president. 

The people, having obtained an entire victory 
over monarchy and aristocracy, beheaded the 
king and queen, and drove the nobles from the 
realm. France was now divided into two great 
parties. The Jacobins were so called from an 
old cloister in which they at first held theii 
meetings. All of the lowest, most vicious, and 
the reckless of the naticn belonged to this party. 
They seemed disposed to overthrow all law, hu- 
man and divine. Marat, Danton, and Robes- 
pierre were the blood-stained leaders of this 
wild and furious factiofi. The Girondists, theij 



5b JosEPHiivE. fA.D. 1785 

The Jacobins triumphant Fearful commotiont 

opponents, were so called from the department 
of the Gironde, from which most of the leaders 
of this party came. They wished for a repub- 
lic like that of the United States, where ther's 
should be the protection of life, and property, 
and liberty, with healthy laws sacredly enforced 

The conflict between the two parties was long 
and terrible. The Jacobins gained the victory, 
and the Girondists were led to the guillotine. 
M. Beauharnais was an active member of the 
Girondist party, of which Madame Roland was 
the soul, and he perished with them. Many 
of the Girondists sought safety in concealment 
and retreat. M. Beauharnais, conscious of his 
political integrity, proudly refused to save hii? 
life by turning his back upon his foes. 

One morning Josephine was sitting in her 
parlor, in a state of great anxiety in reference 
to the fearful commotion of the times, when a 
servant announced that some one wished to 
gpeak to her. A young man of very gentle anJ 
prepossessing appearance was introduced, with 
a bag in his hand, in which were several pairs 
of shoes. 

"Citizen," said the man to Josephine, "] 
understand that you want socks of plum gray."* 

Josephine looked up in surprise, hardly coro 



A. D. 1784.] Arrest of Beauharnais. 5^ 

TTm^ warning. Alarm of Josephine 



prehending his meaning, when he approached 
nearer to her, and, in an under tone, whispered 

I have something to impart to you, madame.'' 

'* Explain yourself," she eagerly replied, 
pjuch alarmed ; "my servant is faithful." 

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "my life is at stake 
in this matter." 

" Go, Victorine," said Josephine to her serv- 
ant, " and call my husband." 

As soon as they were alone, the young man 
said, "There is not a moment to lose if you 
would save M. Beauharnais. The Revolution- 
ary Committee last night passed a resolution 
to have him arrested, and at this very moment 
the warrant is making out." 

" How know you this ?" she demanded, trem 
blins: violently. 

" T am one of the committee," was the reply, 
"and, being a shoemaker, I thought these shoes 
would afford me a reasonable pretext for adver 
tising you, madame." 

At this moment M. Beauharnais entered the 
r'K)m, and Josephine, weeping, thr*»w herself 
into his arms. " You see my husband," shf 
said to the shoemaker. 

" I have the honor of knowing him," was the 
reply. 



60 Josephine. [A.D. 1786 

Beauliamais proudly refuses to attempt an escape. 

M. Beauharnais wished to reward the young 
man on the spot for his magnanimous and per- 
ilous deed of kindness. The otTer was respect* 
full; but decisively declined. To the earnest 
entreaties of Josephine and the young man that 
ae should immediately secure his safety by his 
flight or concealment, he replied, 

" I will never flee ; with what can they charge 
me ? I love liberty. I have borne arms for the 
Revolution." 

''But you are a noble," the young man re- 
joined, " and that, in the eye of the Revolution- 
ists, is a crime — an unpardonable crime. And, 
moreover, they accuse you of having been a 
member of the Constitutional Assembly." 

" That," said M. Beauharnais, '' is my most 
honorable title to glory. Who would not be 
proud of having proclaimed the rights of the 
nation, the fall of despotism, and the reign of 
laws ?" 

"What laws!" exclaimed Josephine. " Tt is 
in blood they are written." 

" Madame," exclaimed the philanthropic 
young Jacobin, with a tone of severity, "when 
the tree of liberty is planted in an unfriendly 
soil, it must be watered with the blood of its 
enemies." Then, turning to M. Beauharnais. 



A.D. 17H6.] ARREST OF Beauharnais (51 

Entreaties of Josephine. Arrest of Eeauhai nais 



he said, "Within an hour it will no longer be 
possible to escape. I wished to save you, be- 
cause I believe you innocent. Such was my 
laty to hunianity. But if I am commanded to 
if rest you — pardon me — I shall do my duty; 
and you will acknowledge the patriot." 

The young shoemaker withdrew, and Jose- 
phine in vain entreated her husband to attempt 
his escape. " Whither shall I flee ?" he an- 
swered. " Is there a vault, a garret, a hiding- 
place into which the eye of the tyrant Robes- 
pierre does not penetrate ? We must yield. If 
I am condemned, how can I escape ? If I am 
not condemned, I have nothing to fear." 

About two hours elapsed when three m<»m 
bers of the Revolutionary Committee, accompa 
nied by a band of armed men, broke into the 
house. The young shoemaker was one of this 
committee, and with firmness, but with much 
urbanity, he arrested M. Beauharnais. Jose- 
phine, as her husband was led to prison, was 
left in her desolated home. And she found 
herself indeed deserted and alone. No onr 
could then manifest any sympathy w\th thr 
proscribed without periling life. Josephine's; 
friends, one by one, all abandoned her. The 
youQg rfhoemaker alone, who had arrested hei 



62 Josephine. [A.D. 179Q 

Beneficence of Jasephice. The children deceived 

husband, continued secretly to call with words 
of sympathy. 

Josephine made great exertions to cbtain the 
ralease of her husband, and was also unwearied 
Iq her benefactions to multitudes around hei 
who, in those days of lawlessness and of an 
guish, were deprived of property, of friends, and 
of home. The only solace she found in her own 
grief was in ministering to the consolation of 
others. Josephine, from the kindest of motives, 
but very injudiciously, deceived her children in 
reference to their father's arrest, and led them 
to suppose that he was absent from home in 
consequence of ill health. When at last sne 
obtained permission to visit, with her children, 
her husband in prison, they detected the deceit. 
After returning from the prison after their first 
interview, Hortense remarked to her mother 
that she thought her fathsr's apartment very 
small, and the patients very numerous. She 
appeared for a time very thoughtful, and then 
inquired of Eugene, with an anxious expression 
af countenance, 

" Do you believe that papa is ill ? If he is, it 
sertainly is not the sickness which the dcctora 
ture." 

** Wliat do you mean, my dear chi^d?" aske</ 



A.l). 1790.] ArR EST OF J OSEPHINE. 6«J 

Indiscretions. Arrest of Josephine 

Josephine. " Can you suppose that papa and J 
would contrive between us to deceive you ?" 

" Pardon me, mamma, but I do think so." 

"Why, sister," exclaimed Eugene, "how 
oan you say so ?" 

'' Good parents," she replied, " are unques- 
tionably permitted to deceive their children 
when they wish to spare them uneasiness. Is 
it not so, mamma ?*' 

Josephine was not a little embarrassed by this 
detection, and was compelled to acknowledge 
that which it was no longer possible to conceal. 

In the interview which M. Beauharnais held 
with his wife and his children, he spoke with 
some freedom to his children of the injustice of 
his imprisonment. This sealed his doom. List- 
eners, who were placed in an adjoining room to 
note down his words, reported the conversation, 
and magnified it into a conspiracy for the over- 
throw of the republic. M. Beauharnais was 
immediately placed in close confinement. Jose- 
phine herself was arrested and plunged into pri^^ 
on, and even the terrified children were rigidly 
examined by a brutal committee, who, by prom- 
ises and by threats, did what they could to ex- 
tort from them some confession which would 
lead to the conviction of their parents. 



64 Josephine. [A.D. 1790 

Josephine takes leave of her sleeping children. A motlier's tears 

Josephine, the morning of her arrest, received 
an anonymous letter, warning her of her dan^ 
ger. It was at an early hour, and her children 
were asleep in their beds. But how could she 
escape ? Where could she go ? Should she 
leave her children behind her — a mother aban- 
don her children I Should she take them with 
her, and thus prevent the possibility of eluding 
arrest ? Would not her attempt at flight be 
construed into a confession of guilt, and thus 
compromise the safety of her husband ? While 
distracted with these thoughts, she heard a loud 
knocking and clamor at the outer door of the 
house. She understood too well the significance 
of those sounds. With a great effort to retain 
a tranquil spirit, she passed into the room where 
her children were sleeping. As she fixed n- 1 
eyes upon them, so sweetly lost in slumber, ai.(? 
thought of the utter abandonment to which they 
were doomed, her heart throbbed with anguiah( 
and tears, of such bitterness as are seldom shofi 
upon earth, filled her eyes. She bent over h^i 
daughter and imprinted a mother's farewoK 
kiss upon her forehead. The affectionate child 
though asleep, clasped her arms around hei 
mother's neck, and, speaking the thoughts of 
th« dream passing through her miiid> said 



\.D. 1793.] Arrest OF Josephine. 65 

Brutality of the soldiers. Josephine dragged to the Carmelites 



*' Come to bed. Fear nothing. They shall 
not take you awa} this night. I have prayed 
to God for you." 

The tumult in the outer hall continually in- 
creasing, Josephine, fearful of awaking Hortense 
and Eugene, cast a last lingering look of love 
npon them, and, withdrawing from the cham- 
oer, closed the door and entered her parlor. 
There she found a band of armed men, headed 
oy the brutal wretch who had so unfeelingly 
examined her children. The soldiers were hard- 
ened against every appeal of humanity, and per- 
formed their unfeeling office without any emo- 
tion, save that of hatred for one whom they 
deemed to be an aristocrat. They seized Jose- 
phine rudely, and took possession of all the 
property in the house in the name of the Re- 
public. They dragged their victim to the con- 
vent of the Carmelites, and she was immured 
in that prison, where, but a few months before, 
more than eight thousand had been massacred 
by the mob of Paris. Even the blackest an^ 
nals of religWus fanaticism can record no out- 
re-ges more horrible than those which rampant 
irjlidelity perpetrated in these days of its tem- 
[yorary triumphs. 

Wh^n Eugene and Hori^nse awoke, they 



66 Josephine. [A.D. 1793 

forlorn condition of the children. They find a prolector' 

found themselves indeed alone in the wide* 
world. They were informed by a servant of 
the arrest and the imprisonment of their moth 
er. The times had long been so troubled, an(f 
the children were so familiar with the recital 
of such scenes of violence, that the^ were pre- 
pared to meet these fearful perplexities with no 
little degree of discretion. After a few tears, 
they tried to summon resolution to act worthily 
of their father and mother. Hortense, with 
that energy of character which she manifested 
through her whole life, advised that they should 
go to the Luxembourg, where their father was 
confined, and demand admission to share his 
imprisonment. Eugene, with that caution 
which characterized him when one of the lead- 
ers in the army of Napoleon, and when viceroy 
of Italy, apprehensive lest thus they might in 
some way compromise the safety of their father, 
recalled to mind an aged great-aunt, who was 
residing in much retirement in the vicinity of 
Versailles, and suggested the propriety of seek - 
mg a refuge with her. An humble female friend 
conducted the children to Versailles, where the) 
were most kindly received 

When the gloom of the ensuing night dark- 
ened the city, M. BeauhMrnais in his cheerless 



A. D, 1793. J Arrest OF J osEi HIKE 67 

Gloomy forebodings of Beauhamals and JosephiiiB. 



cell, and Josephine in her prison still stained 
with the blood of massacre, wept over the des- 
olation of their home and their hopes. They 
knew not the fate of their children, and their 
minds were oppressed with the most gloomy 
forebodings. On the ensuing day, Josephine's 
heart was clieered with the tidings of their safe- 
ty. Such was the second terrific storm which 
Josephine encountered on life's dark watrrs 



68 Josephine. [A.D.1794 

CoBTsnt of the Carmelitea. Quality of the piiaonen 



Chapter IV. 

Scenes in Prison. 

f ilHE Convent of the Carmelites, in which 
-^ Josephine was imprisoned, had acquired a 
fearful celebrity during the Reign of Terror. 
It was a vast and gloomy pile, so capacious in 
its halls, its chapel, its cells, and its subterra 
nean dungeons, that at one time nearly ten 
thousand prisoners were immured within its 
frowning walls. In every part of the building 
the floors were still deeply stained with the 
blood of the recent massacres. The infuriated 
men and women, intoxicated with rum and 
rage, who had broken into the prison, dragged 
multitudes of their victims, many of whom were 
priests, into the chapel, that they might, in de- 
rision of religion, poniard them before the altar 
About three hundred thousand innocent victims 
of the Revolution now crowded the prisons of 
France. These unhappy captives, awaiting the 
hour of their execution, were not the ignorant, 
the debased, the degraded, but the noblest, the 
purest, the m^ost refined of the citizens of the 



A.D.1794.J Scenes iw Prison. 69 



Cheerftilnes3 of Josephiae. Reading the daily Journal 

republic. Josephine was placed in the chapel 
of the Q^nventj where she found one hundred 
and sixty men and women as the sharers of hei 
captivity. 

The natural buoyancy of her disposition ed 
her to take as cheerful a view as possible of the 
calamity in which the family was involved. 
Being confident that no serious charge could be 
brouorht ao[ainst her husband, she cluno: to the 
hope that they both would soon be liberated, 
and that happy days were again to dawn upon 
her reunited household. She wrote cheerino 
letters to her husband and to her children. Her 
smiling countenance and w^ords of kindness an- 
imated with new courage the grief-stricken and 
the despairing who surrounded her. She im- 
mediately became a universal favorite with the 
inmates of the prison. Her instinctive tact ei> 
abled her to approach all acceptably, w^hatevei 
their rank or character. She soon becamo 
prominent in influence among the prisoners, 
and reigned there, as every where else, over thf 
hearts of willing subjects. Her composure, hei 
cheerfulness, her clear and melodious voice, 
caused her to be selected to read, each day, to 
the ladies, the journal of the preceding day 
From their windows they could see, each morn 



70 Josephine. [A.D.1794 

Scenes from the prison windows. Anecdote of llortense 

ing, the carts bearing through the streets theii 
burden of unhappy victims who were to perish 
on the scaffold. Not un frequently a wife would 
catch a glimpse of her husband, or a mother of 
her son, borne past the grated windows in the 
cart of the condemned. Who can tell the fear 
and anguish with which the catalogue of the 
guillotined was read, when each trembling heart 
apprehended that the next word might an- 
nounce that some loved one had perished ? Not 
anfrequently a piercing shriek, and a fainting 
form falling lifeless upon the floor, revealed upon 
whose heart the blow had fallen. 

Hortense, impetuous and unreflecting, was so 
impatient to see her mother, that one morning 
she secretly left her aunt's house, and, in a 
market cart, traveled thirty miles to Paris. She 
found her mother's maid, Victorine, at the fam- 
ily mansion, where all the property was sealed 
ap by the revolutionary functionaries. After 
making unavailing eflbrts to obtain an interview 
with her parents, she returned the next day to 
Pontainebleau. Josephine was informed of this 
imprudent act of ardent affection, and wrote to 
tier child the following admirable letter : 

" ] should be entirely satisfied with the good 
beart of my Hortense were I not displeased witb 



A.I).1794.J Scenes in Prison. 7J 

Letter from Josephine to Hortense. Mitigation of sereritj 

her bad head How is it, my daughter, that, 
without permission from your aunt, you have 
come to Paris ? This was very wrong ! Bui 
it was to see me, you will say. You ought to 
be aware that no one can see me without an 
order, to obtain which requires both means and 
precautions. And, besides, you got upon M. 
Dorcet's cart, at the risk of incommoding him 
and retarding the conveyance of his merchan- 
dise. In all this you have been very inconsid 
erate. My child I observe, it is not sufficiert 
to do good; you must also do good properly. 
At your age, the first of all virtues is confidence 
and docility toward your relations. I am there- 
fore obliged to tell you that I prefer your tran- 
quil attachment to your misplaced warmth. 
This, however, does not prevent me from em- 
bracing you, but less tenderly than I shall do 
when I learn that you have returned to youj 
aunt." 

There was at this time, for some unknown 
reason, a little mitigation in the severity with 
which the prisoners were treated, and Josephine 
was very sanguine in the belief that the houi 
of their release was at hand. Emboldened by 
this hope, she wrote a very earnest appe&l tc 
tho Committee of Public Safety, before whorr 



72 Josephine. [A.D.1794 

Josephine appeals to the Committee. She is summoned to trial 

the accusations against M. Beauharnais would 
be brought. The sincerity and frankness of the 
eloquent address so touched the feelings of the 
president of the committee, that he resolved U 
secure for Josephine and her husband the in- 
dulgence of an interview. The greatest caution 
was necessary in doing this, for he periled his 
own life by the manifestation of any sympathy 
for the accused. 

The only way in which he could accomplish 
his benev'lent project was to have them both 
brought together for trial. Neither of them 
knew of this design. One morning Josephine, 
while dreaming of liberty and of her children, 
was startled by the unexpected summons to 
appear before the Revolutionary tribunal. She 
knew that justice had no voice which could 
be heard before that merciless and sanguinary 
court. She knew that the mockery of a tria 
was but the precursor of the sentence, which 
was immediately followed by the execution 
From her high hopes this summons caused a 
fearful fall. Thoughts of her husband and hor 
children rushed in upon her overflowing heart, 
and the tenderness of the woman for a few mo- 
ments triumphed over the heroine. Soon, how- 
ever, regaining in some degree her composure, 



A.D. 1794.] Scenes iir P Ris ON. 73 



The unexpected interview. Feeling nr^nifested Ly BeauhHrnala 

she prepared herself, with as much cahnness as 
possible, to meet her doom. She was led from 
ber prison to the hall where the blood-stained 
tribunal held its session, and, with many oth- 
jrs, was placed in an ante-room, to await her 
turn for an examination of a few minutes, upon 
the issues of which life or death was suspended. 
While Josephine was sitting here, in the anguish 
of suspense, an opposite door was opened, and 
some armed soldiers led in a group of victims 
from another prison. As Josephine's eye va- 
cantly wandered over their features, she was 
startled by the entrance of one whose wan and 
haggard features strikingly reminded her of hei 
husband. She looked again, their eyes met, 
and husband and wife were instantly locked in 
each other's embrace. At this interview, the 
stoicism of M. Beauharnais was entirely sub- 
dued — the thoughts of the past, of his un worthi- 
ness, of the faithful and generous love of Jose, 
phine, rushed in a resistless flood upon his soul. 
He leaned his aching head upon the forgiving 
5osom of Josephine, and surrendered himself to 
love, and penitence, and tears. 

This brief and painful interview was their 
last. They never met again. They were aL 
lowed but a few moments together ere the offi- 



74 Josephine. [x\.D. 1794 

Trial ol M de^.iiarQa'a and Josephine. Hopes chr^dshed 

cers came and dragged M. Beauharnais before 
the judges. His examination lasted but a few 
minutes, when hd was remanded back to pris- 
m. Nothing was proved against him. No so- 
."ioas accusation even was laid to his charge. 
But he was a noble. He had descended from 
illustrious ancestors, and therefore, as an aris- 
tocrat, he was doomed to die. Josephine was 
also conducted into the presence of this san- 
guinary tribunal. She was the wife of a no- 
bleman. She was the friend of Maria Antoi- 
ftette. She had even received distinguished 
attentions at court. These crimes consigned 
her also to the guillotine. Josephine was con- 
ducted back to her prison, unconscious of the 
sentence which had been pronounced against 
her husband and herself. She even cherished 
the sanguine hope that they would soon be lib- 
erated, for she could not think it possible that 
they could be doomed to death without oven 
tht^ accusation of crime. 

Each evening there was brought into the 
prison a list of the names of those who were to 
be led to the guillotine on the ensuing morning. 
A. few days after the trial, on the evening of the 
24th of July, 1794, M. Beauharnais found his 
Qame with the proscribed who were to be led ta 



A D 1794.] iScENES IN Prison. 7t 

Beaabamais's last letter to Josephine. Brutality of the exocntioiien 

the scaffold with the light of the next day. 
Love for his wife and his children rendered life 
too piecious to him to be surrendered without 
anguish. But sorrow had subdued h;s heart, 
and led him with prayerfulness to look to God 
for strength to meet the trial. The native dig- 
nity of his character also nerved him to meet 
his fate with fortitude. 

He sat down calmly in his cell, and wrote a 
long, affectionate, and touching letter to his 
wife. He assured her of his most heartfelt ap^ 
preciation of the purity and nobleness of her 
character, and of her priceless worth as a wife 
and a mother. He thanked her again and 
again for the generous spirit with which she 
forgave his offenses, when, weary and contrite, 
he returned from his guilty wanderings, and 
anew sought her love. He implored her to 
cherish in the hearts of his children the memo- 
ry of their father, that, though dead, he might 
still live in their affections. While he war 
writing, the executioners came in to cut off hii 
long hair, thai the ax might do its work unim- 
peded. Picking up a small lock from the floor, 
he wished to transmit it to his wife as his last 
legacy. The brutal executioners forbade hirr 
the privilege. He, however, succeeded in pur 



76 Josephine. [A D. 1794 

Removal of the guillotine. Execution of M. Beauharnaia 

chasing from them a few hairs, which he in« 
closed in his letter, and which she subsequently 
received. 

In the early dawn of the morning, the cart 
of the condemned was at the prison door. The 
Parisians were beginning to be weary of tho 
abundant flow of blood, and Robespierre had 
therefore caused the guillotine to be removed 
from the Place de la Revolution to an obscure 
spot in the Faubourg St. Antoine. A large 
number of victims were doomed to die that 
morning. The carts, as they rolled along the 
pavements, groaned with their burdens, and the 
persons in the streets looked on in sullen silence. 
M. Beauharnais, with firmness, ascended the 
scaffold. The slide of the guillotine fell, and 
the brief drama of his stormy life was ended. 

While the mutilated form of M. Beauharnais 
was borne to an ignoble burial, Josephine, en- 
tirely unconscious of the calamity which had 
befallen her, was cheering her heart with tho 
hope of a speedy union with her husband and 
her children in their own loved home. Tho 
morning after the execution, the daily journal, 
containing the names of those who had perished 
on the preceding day, was brought, as usual, to 
the prison. Some of the ladies in the prison 



A..D. 1794.^ Scenes in Prison 77 



losephine becomes informed therevf. Her grief. Her despair 

had receivfid the intimation that M. Beauhar- 
nais had fallen. They watched, therefore, the 
arrival of the journal, and, finding their fears 
established, they tried, for a time, to conceal 
the dreadful intelligence from the unconscious 
widow. But Josephine was eagerly inquiring 
for the paper, and at last obtaining it, she ran 
her eye hastily over the record of executions, 
and found the name of her husband in the fatal 
list. She fell senseless upon the floor. For a 
long time she remained in a swoon. When 
eonsciousness returned, and with it a sense of 
the misery into which she was plunged, in the 
delirium of her anguish she exclaimed, " Oh 
God ! let me die ! let me die ! There is no 
peace for me but in the grave." 

Her friends gathered around her. They im- 
plored her to think of her children, and for their 
sake to prize a life she could no longer prize for 
her own. The poignancy of her grief gradual- 
'y subsided into the calm of despair. A slecp- 
'ess night lingered slowly away. The darkness 
and the gloom of a prison settled down upra 
her soUi. The morning dawned drearily. A 
band of rough and merciless agents from the 
Revolutionary Assembly came to her with the 
alina«it welcome intelligence that in two days 



78 Josephine. f A D. 1794 

Preparations for the execution of Josephine. She becomes cheerfril 

she was to be led to the Conciergerie, and fiom 
thence to her execution. These tidings would 
have been joyful to Josephine were it not for 
her children. A mother's love clung to the or- 
phans, and it was with pain inexpressible that 
she thought of leaving them alone in this tem- 
pestuous world — a world made so stormy, so 
woeful, by man's inhumanity to his fellow-man. 
The day preceding the one assigned for her 
execution arrived. The numerous friends of 
Josephine in the prison hung around her with 
tears. The heartless jailer came and took away 
her mattress, saying, with a sneer, that she 
would need it no longer, as her head was soon 
to repose upon the soft pillow of the guillotina 
It is reported that, as the hour of execution 
Jrew nearer, Josephine became not only per- 
fectly calm, but even cheerful in spirit. She 
looked affectionately upon the weeping group 
gathered around her, and, recalling at the mo* 
ment the prediction of the aged negress, gently 
smiling, said, " We have no cause for alarm, 
my friends ; I am not to be executed. Il is 
written in the decrees of Fate that I am yet to 
be Queen of France." Some of her friends 
thought that the suppressed anguish of her heart 
had driven 1 3r to delirium, and they wppi wore 



A.D. 1794.] Scenes in Trison. 7^ 



Credulity of Josephine. The unexpected deaverance 

bitterly. But one of the ladies, Madame d'Ai- 
guillon, was a little irritated at pleasantry which 
she deemed so ill timed. With somethinsr like 
resentment, she asked, "Why, then, madame, 
do you not appoint your household ?" " Ah ! 
that is true," Josephine replied. . " I had for- 
gotten. Well, you, my dear, shall be my maid 
of honor. I promise you the situation." They 
both lived to witness the strange fulfillment of 
this promise. Josephine, however, who, from the 
circumstances of her early life, was inclined ta 
credulity, afterward declared that at the •time 
her mind reposed in the full confidence that in 
some way her life would be saved, and that the 
prediction of the negress would be virtually ro« 
alized. 

The shades of night settled down around the 
gloomy convent, enveloping in their folds the 
despairing hearts which thronged this abode of 
woe. Suddenly the most exultant shout of joy 
burst from every lip, and echoed along through 
corridors, and dungeons, and grated cells. There 
was weeping and fainting for rapture inexpresS' 
ible The prisoners leaped into each other's 
arms, and, frantic with happiness, clung togeth- 
er in that long and heartfelt embrace which 
Qono can appreciate but those who have oeei 



«0 Josephine [A.D. 1794 

A miraculous change. Delivorance to the captives 

companions in woe. Into the blackness of their 
midnight there had suddenly burst the blaze of 
noonday. What caused this apparently mirac- 
ulous change ? The iron-hearted jailer had 
passed along, announcing, in coarsest phrase, 
THAT Robespierre was guillotined. There 
had been a new revolution. The tyrant had 
fallen. The prisons which he had filled with 
^riotims were to be emptied of their captives. 



AD. 179-1 j Ki:i.KASE from Prison. 8] 

Robecpierre. M. Tallies. Madame de Fontenay 



Chapter V 

The Release from Prison. 

rr^HE overthrow of Robespierre, and the con- 
-*- sequent escape of Josephine from the doom 
impending over her, was in the following man- 
ner most strangely accomplished. The tyranny 
of Robespierre had become nearly insupportable. 
Conspiracies were beginning to be formed to 
attempt his overthrow. A lady of great beau- 
ty and celebrity, Madame de Fontenay, was 
imprisoned with Josephine. M. Tallien, a man 
of much influence with a new party then rising 
into power, had conceived a strong attachment 
for this lady, and, though he could not safely 
indulge himself in interviews with her in pris- 
on, he was in the habit of coming daily to tht 
Convent of the Carmelites that he might have 
the satisfaction of catching a glimpse of the ono 
he loved through her grated window 

Madame de Fontenay had received secret in* 
telligence that she was soon to be led before the 
Convention for trial. This she knew to be but 
^he prelude of her execution. That evening 



82 Josephine. [A.D.1791 

A IcTer'e device. Execution of Robespierre decreed 

M. TalLien appeared as usual before the guard- 
ed casement of the Carmelites. Madame de 
Fontenay and Josephine, arm in arm, leanf^ 
against the bars of the window, as if to breathe 
the fresh evening air, and made a sign to arrest 
M. Tallien's particular attention. They then 
dropped from the window a piece of cabbage 
leaf, in which Madame de Fontenay had in- 
closed the following note : 

" My trial is decreed — the result is certain. 
If you love me as you say, urge every means 
to save P^rance and me." 

With intense interest, they watched the mo- 
tions of M. Tallien until they saw him take the 
cabbage-leaf from the ground. Roused by the 
billet to the consciousness of the necessity of 
immediate action, he proceeded to the Conven- 
tion, and, with the impassioned energy which 
love for Madame de Fontenay and hatred of 
Robespierre inspired, made an energetic and 
fearless assault upon the tyrant. Robespierre, 
pale and trembling, saw that his hour had 
X)me. A decree of accusation was preferred 
against him, and the head of the merciless des- 
pot fell upon that guillotine where he had al- 
ready caused so many thousands to perish. The 
day before Josephine was to have been cxecu 



A. D. 1794.] Release from PriSun. S> 



He Is gfuillotined. Singular mode ol conveying UJormftCun 



ted, he was led, mangled and bleeding, to the 
scaffold. He had attempted to commit suicide. 
The ball missed its aim, but shattered his jaw. 
The wretched man ascended the ladder, and 
stood upon the platform of the guillotine. The 
executioners tore the bandage from his man- 
gled face, that the linen might not impede the 
blow of the ax. Their rude treatment of the 
inflamed wound extorted a cry of agony, which 
thrilled upon the ear of the assembled crowd, 
and produced a silence as of the grave. The 
next moment the slide fell, and the mutilated 
head was severed from the body. Then the 
very heavens seemed rent by one long, loud, ex- 
ulting shout, which proclaimed that Robespierre 
was no more ! 

The death of Robespierre arrested the ax 
which was just about to fall upon the head of 
"osephine. The first intimation of his over- 
throw was communicated to her in the follow- 
•ng singular manner. Madame d'Aiguillon 
was weeping bitterly, and sinking down with 
fnintness in view of the bloody death to which 
her friend was to be led on the morrow. Jose- 
phine, whose fortitude had not forsaken her, 
drew her almost senseless companion to the 
window, that she might be revived by the fresh 



84 Josephine. [A.D. 1794. 

Pantomimic represeutation of Robespierre's fall. 

air. Her attention was arrested by a woman 
of the lower orders in the street, who was con- 
tinually looking np to the window, beckoning 
to Josepliine, and making many very singular 
gestures. She seemed to desire to call her at- 
tention particularly to the rohe which she wore, 
holding it up, and pointing to it again and 
again. Josephine, through the iron grating, 
cried out Robe. The woman eagerly gave signs 
of assent, and immediately took up a stone, 
which in French is Pierre. Josephine again 
cried q\\.\. jpierre. The woman appeared over- 
joyed on perceiving that her pantomime began 
to be understood. She then put the two to- 
gether, pointing alternately to the one and to 
the other. Josephine cried out Robesjpierre. 
The woman then began to dance and shout with 
delight, and made signs of cutting off a head. 

This pantomime excited emotions in the bo- 
som of Josephine which cannot be described. 
She hardly dared to believe that the tyrant had 
actually fallen, and yet she knew not how else 
to account for the singular conduct of the wom- 
an. But a few moments elapsed before a great 
noise was heard in the corridor of the prison. 
The turnkey, in loud and fearless tones, cried 
out to his dog, " Get out, you cursed brute of 



A.D 1794.] Kelha.se from Prison. 87 



Universal joy caused by the death of the tyrant 



a Robespierre !" This emphatic phraseology 
convinced them that the sanguinary monstei 
before whom all France had trembled was no 
longer to be feared. In a few moments the 
glad tidings were resounding through the pris- 
on, and many were in an instant raised from 
the abyss of despair to almost a delhium of bliss. 
Josephine's bed was restored to her, and she 
placed hex head upon her pillow that night, and 
sank down to the most calm and delightful re- 
pose. 

No language can describe the transports ex- 
cited throughout all France by the tidings of 
the fall of Robespierre. Three hundred thou- 
sand captives were then lingering in the prisons 
of Paris awaiting death. As the glittering steel 
severed the head of the tyrant from his body, 
their prison doors burst open, and France was 
filled with hearts throbbing with ecstacy, and 
with eyes overflowing with tears of rapture. 
Five hundred thousand fugitives were trembling 
in their retreats, apprehensive of arrest. They 
issued from their hiding-places frantic with joy, 
and every village witnessed their tears and em- 
braces. 

The new party which now came into power, 
with Tallien at its head, immediately liberated 



88 Josephine. [A.D. 1794. 

Josephine released from captivity. Gloomy prospect. 

those wlio had been condemned by their oppo- 
nents, and the prison doors of Josephine were 
thrown open to her. But from the gloom of 
her cell she returned to a world still dark and 
clonded. Her husband had been beheaded, and 
all his property confiscated. She found herself 
a widow and penniless. Nearly all of her friends 
had perished in the storms which had swept 
over France. The Keign of Terror had passed 
away, but gaunt famine was staring the nation 
in the face. They were moments of ecstasy 
when Josephine, again free, pressed Eugene and 
Hortense to her heart. But the most serious 
embarrassments immediately crowded upon her. 
Poverty, stern and apparently remediless, was 
her lot. She had no friends upon whom she 
had any right to call for aid. There was no 
employment open before her by which she could 
obtain her subsistence; and it appeared that she 
and her children were to be reduced to absolute 
beggary. These were among the darkest hours 
of her earthly career. It was from this abyss 
of obscurity and want that she was to be raised 
to a position of splendor and of power such as 
the wildest dreams of earthly ambition conld 
hnnlly have conceived. 

Though Robespierre was dead, the strife of 



A. D. 1794.] Release from Phison. 89 

Heartlessness of Marat. Eugene apprenticed to an artisan. 

rancorous parties raged with unabated violence, 
and blood flowed freely. The reign of the mob 
still continued, and it was a mark of patriotism 
demanded by the clamors of haggard want and 
degradation to persecute all of noble blood. 
Young girls from the boarding-schools, and boys 
just emerging from the period of childhood, 
were beheaded by the guillotine. "We must 
exterminate," said Marat, " all the whelms of 
aristocracy." Josephine trembled for her chil- 
dren. Poverty, and the desire of concealing 
Eugene among the mass of the people, induced 
her to apprentice her son to a house-carpenter. 
For several months Eugene cheerfully and la- 
boriously toiled in this humble occupation. But 
the sentiments he had imbibed from both father 
and mother ennobled him, and every day pro- 
duced new developments of a lofty character, 
which no circumstances could long depress. 

Let such a woman as Josephine, with her 
clieerful, magnanimous, self-sacrificing, and 
iionerous spirit, be left destitute in any place 
wliere human beings are congregated, and she 
will soon inevitably meet w^ith those who will 
feel honored in securing her friendship and in 
offerinoj her a home. Everv fireside has a wel- 
come for a noble heart. Madame Dumoulin, a 



JO Jdsephink. [A D. 1795 

Slndnesa »f Josephine's friaida. She recovers her property 

lady of great elevation of character, whose larg* 
fortune had by some chance escaped the gen- 
sral wreck, invited Josephine to her house, 
and freely supplied her wants. Madame Fon- 
tonay, also, who was a woman of great beauty 
and accomplishments, soon after her libera;tion 
was married to M. Tallien, to whom she had 
tossed the note, inclosed in a cabbage-leaf, from 
her prison window. It was this note which had 
so suddenly secured the overthrow of the tyrant, 
and had rescued so many from the guillotine. 
They both became the firm friends of Josephine 
Others, also, soon became strongly attracted to 
her by the loveliness of her character, and were 
ambitious to supply all her wants. 

Through M. Tallien, she urged her claim 
upon the National Convention for the restora- 
tion of her confiscated property. After a long 
and tedious process, she succeeded in regaining 
such a portion of her estate as to provide her 
amply with all the comforts of life. Again she 
had her own peaceful home, with Eugene and 
flortense by her side. Her natural buoyanc} 
')f s})irits rose superior to the storms which had 
swept so mercilessly over her, and in the love 
of her idolized children, and surrounded by the 
sympathies of appreciative friends, days of se- 



A D. J795.J Release from Prison. 91 

k domestic scene. A new order of knightStood 

rrnity. and even of joy, began to shine upon 

A. domestic scene occurred in the dwelling 
)f Josephine on the anniversary of the death of 
M. Beauharnais peculiarly characteristic of the 
times and of the French people. Josephine 
called Eugene to her room, and presented to 
him a portrait of his father. " Carry it to youi 
chamber, my son," she said, " and often let it 
be the object of your contemplations. Above 
all, let him whose image it presents be your 
constant model. He was the most amiable of 
men ; he would have been the best of fathers." 

Eugene was a young man of that enthusi 
astic genius which is the almost invariable ac- 
companiment of a noble character. His emo- 
tions were deeply excited. With the charac- 
teristic ardor of his countrymen, he covered tho 
portrait with kisses, and wept freely. Josephine 
folded her noble boy in her embrace, and thoy 
mingled their tears together. 

In the evening, as Josephine was sitting 
alone in her parlor, her son entered, accompa- 
nied by six young men, his companions, each 
decorated with a copy of the portrait of M. 
Beauharnais suspended from the neck by a black 
and white ribbon. " You see," said Eugene U; 



**J Josephine [A.D. 1795 

The Or^'er of Filial /y-ne. Inaugur>*aon. Deooratiore of the room 



his mother, " the founders of a new order of 
knighthood. Behold our tutelary saint," point* 
Jig to the portrait of his father. '' And th(=sci 
are the first nnembers." He then introduceil 
bis youthful companions to his mother. 

"Ours," he continued, " Is named the Ordei 
of Filial Love ; and, if you would witness the 
first inauguration, pass with these gentlemen 
into the small drawing-room." 

Josephine entered the drawing-room with the 
youthful group, and found it very tastefully 
ornamented with garlands of ivy, roses, and 
laurels. Inscriptions, taken from the printed 
discourses or remarkable sayings of M. Beau- 
harnais, were suspended upon the walls. Gir- 
andoles, with lighted tapers, brilliantly illumin- 
ated the room. An altar was erected, hung 
with festoons of flowers, and upon this altar 
was placed the full-lengih portrait of M. Beau- 
harnais. Three crowns of white and red rote^, 
were suspended from the pioture-frame, and ia 
fr )nt were placed two vases with perfumes. 

Tin young gentlemen ranged themse^.v^ 
about the altar in perfect silence, and, at a ron 
ccrtcd signal, eagerly unsheathed the swords 
which they wore at their sides, and, cla^^ping 
hands, solemnly took th^ oath, '' To lov iheii 



A.D. 1795.] Release from Prison 9? 

rbe oath Nt»w jrganiiatioD of «oci»l ao«\etj 

parents, succor each other, and to defend their 
country.''^ At this moment, Eugene, unfurling 
and waving a small banner, with its folds sha. 
dad the head of his father. "We then em- 
braced each other," says Josephine, " mingling 
cears with smiles, and the most amiable disor- 
ler succeeded to the ceremonial of inaugura- 
tion." 

The fascination of Josephine's person and 
address drew multitudes of friends around her, 
and her society was ever coveted. As time 
softened the poignancy of her past sorrows, she 
mingled more and more in the social circles of 
that metropolis where pleasure and gayety ever 
reign. The terrible convulsions of the times 
had thrown the whole fabric of society into con- 
fusion. Great efforts were now made to revive 
the festivities of former days. Two centers of 
society were naturally established. The first 
included that in which Josephine moved. It 
was composed of the remains of the ancient no- 
bility, who had returned tc Paris with the frag- 
aicnt& of their families and their shattered for- 
tunes Rigid economy was necessary to keep 
up any appearance of elegance. But that pol- 
ish of manners which almost invariably descendr^ 
from an illustrious ancestry marked all theL 



M Josephine. [A.D. 1795 

The " Ball of the Victims." Fashiona'jle style of hair-dressing 

intercourse. The humiliations through which 
the nobles had passed had not diminished the 
3xclusiveness of their tastes. The other circle 
was composed of merchants and bankers who 
had acquired opulence in the midst of the con- 
fiscations and storms of revolution. The pas- 
sion for display was prominent in all their as- 
semblies, as is necessarily the case with those 
whose passport to distinction is wealth. 

At the theaters and all the places of public 
festivity, there were presented studied memo- 
rials of the scenes of horror through which all 
had recently passed. One of the most fashion- 
able and brilliant assemblies then known in 
Paris was called The Ball of the Victims. No 
one was admitted to this assembly who had not 
lost some near relative by the guillotine. The 
most fashionable style of dressing the hair was 
jocosely called " k la guillotine." The hair 
was arranged in the manner in which it had 
been adjusted by the executioner for the unim- 
peded operation of the ax. And thus, with 
songs, md dances, and laughter-moving jokes 
they commemorated the bloody death of theii 
fkdends. 

A new insurrection by the populace of l*aris 
was at this time planned against the Conven* 



A. D. 1795] Release from Prison. 95 

i new insurrection. The dttle Ccrslem 

tion. The exasperated people were again to 
» aarch upon the Tuilleries. The members were 
in extreme consternation. The mcb could bring 
tons of thousands against them, well armed with 
muskets and heavy artillery. There were but 
five hundred regular troops with which to resist 
the onset. Menou, the officer in command, ac- 
knowledged his inability to meet the crisis, and 
surrendered his power to Barras. This general 
immediately, as by a sudden thought, exclaim- 
ed, '* I know the man who can defend us ! He 
is a little Corsican, who dares do any thing, and 
is perfectly reckless of consequences !" 

The little Corsican, Napoleon Bonaparte, the 
day -star of whose fame was just beginning to 
rise over the smouldering ruins of Toulon, was 
invited to meet the Convention. His fragile 
form was almost feminine in its proportions, 
but an eagle eye calmly reposed in his pallid 
and emaciate countenance. He had been se- 
verely sick, and the Convention looked with 
amazement and incredulity upon this feeble 
youth, as the one presented to rescue them from 
their impending peril. 

The president fixed his eye upon him doubt- 
ingly, and said, '' \re you willing to undertake 
our defense ?" 



^6 JusEi^HiNE. [A„D.l79f 



'!(apoleon ■» authority cstaliliL.hs^d The Tuillt'j . 28 fortified 

** Yes I" was the calm, laconic, and almost 
teidifFerent reply. 

" Biat are you aware of the magnitude of the 
isdertaking?" 

■'Fully!" said Napoleon, fixing his piercing 
dye upon the president; "and I am in tne 
habit of accomplishing that which I undertake/' 

From that moment his authority was estab- 
hshed. Every member of the Convention felt 
the mysterious fascination of his master min*^ 
Barras surrendered the whole command into 
his hands. He instantly called into the city all 
the national forces which were around Paris, 
and disposed fifty pieces of heavy artillery, un- 
der the command of Murat, fo as to rake all the 
avenues to the Convention. His calm and al- 
most superhuman energy sought no repose that 
night. The delay of but a few moments would 
have placed this very park of artillery, which 
$^.cured his victory, in the hands of the insur- 
^'^nts. When the morning dawned, the Tuil- 
I'.ries, as if by magic, had assumed the aspect 
'f a fortified camp. The little Corsican was 
silently and calmly awaiting the onset, as se- 
cure of triumph as if the victory were already 
achieved. 

But in every quarter of Paris, during the 



A.D. 1795.] Release from Pkison. 97 

Advance of the insurgents. Napoleon opens his batteries. 

night, the insurgents had been mustering their 
forces, and the mutterings of the approaching 
storm were dismally echoed through the streets 
of the metropolis. Above thirty thousand men, 
all well armed with mnsketry and artillery, in 
regular military array, and under experienced 
generals, came pouring down npon the feeble 
band which surrounded the Convention. 

Will the little Corsican dare to fire upon the 
people? Will this pale and slender youth, who 
had hardly yet entered npon the period of man- 
hood, dare to deluge the pavements of Paris 
with the blood of her own citizens? Will he 
venture npon a conflict so unequal, when fail- 
ure is his certain death? 

Napoleon, with his colorless cheek, his flash- 
ing eye, and his air of mysterious melancholy, 
stood in silence, as the gathering thousands 
crowded down upon him. He offered no par- 
ley'; he uttered not a word of warning; he con- 
descended to no threats. The insurgents, be- 
lieving that he would not dare to fire upon 
them, advanced within fifty yards of his masked 
battery, when he opened his columns, and, in 
the roar of artillery shotted to the muzzle, the 
voice of Napoleon was for the first time heard 
in the streets of Paris. The thunder of his 

G 



98 Josephine. [A.D. 1795 

defeat of the insurgents. R!s-ng fame of Napoleon 

tones was preceded by the lightning's bolt. The 
merciless storm of grape-shot, sweeping the 
streets, covered the ground with the dead and 
the dying. No mortal could withstand such 6 
conilict. The advancing foe wavered for an 
instant, and then, in the utmost consternation, 
took to flight. Napoleon commanded immedi- 
ately the most rapid discharge of blank car- 
tridges. Peal upon peal, their loud reverbera- 
tions deafened the city, and added wings to the 
flight of the terror-stricken crowd. But a few 
moments elapsed ere not even a straggler could 
be seen in the deserted streets. The little Cr- 
sican, pale and calm, stood, with folded aims, 
as unperturbed as if no event of any moment 
had occurred. During the whole day, howev- 
er, the conflict continued in different parts of 
the city, but before nightfall the insurgerits 
were every where entirely discomfited. 

Paris was now filled with the name of Na- 
poleon. Some regarded him as a savior, pro 
tecting the Convention ; others considered him 
a demon, deluging tne capital with blood. One 
evening, Josephine was visiting at the house of 
a friend, and sitting by a window examining 
gome beautiful violets, when Bonaparte was 
announced. Josephine had never yet met him, 






A.D. 1795.] Rej-ease frcm Prison 99 

HiB first interview with Josephine. His " seal * 

though, of course, she had heard much of one 
whose rising fame filled the metropolis. 

She says that she trembled violently at tl:f 
announcement of his name. His entrance 
seemed to excite general interest, and all eyes 
were turned toward him, though most of the 
company regarded him in silence. He approach- 
ed Josephine, and the subject of the recent con- 
flict in the streets of Paris was introduced. 

*' It seems to me," said Josephine, " that it 
is only with regret that we should think of the 
consternation you have spread through the cap- 
ital. It is a frightful service you have per- 
formed." 

'* It is very possible," he replied. " The 
military are only automata, to which the gov- 
ernment gives such motions as it pleases. They 
have no duty but to obey. Besides, 1 wished 
to teach the Parisians a little lesson. This is 
my seal ivhich I have set upon France.''^ 

This he said in such calm, quiet, imperturb- 
able tones, so expressive of his perfect confi- 
dence in himself, and of his indifference to the 
opinions of others, that Josephine was quite 
piqued, and replied politely, but yet in a man- 
Der which indicated her displeasure. 

" These light skirmishes," the young gejQ»>itt. 



100 Josephine. [A.D. 1795 

Napoleon disarms the populace. The sword of Beauharnals. 

rejoined, " are but the first coruscations of my 
glory." 

" If you are to acquire glory at such a price," 
Josephine answered, " I would much rather 
count you among the victims." 

Such was the first interview between Jose- 
phine and Napoleon. It was merely a casual 
meeting in an evening party between a widow, 
graceful and beautiful, and a young man of 
boundless ambition. Though Josephine was 
not pleased with J^apoleon, he produced a very 
profound impression upon her mind. Napoleon, 
being now in command of the troops in Paris, 
by order of the Convention, executed the very 
unpopular office of disarming the populace. In 
the performance of this order, the sword of M. 
Beauharnais was taken. The next day, Eu- 
gene, who was then a boy twelve years of age, 
of exceedingly prepossessing appearance, pre- 
sented himself before Napoleon, and implored 
the return of the sword which had belonged to 
his father. Napoleon was deeply interested in 
the frankness and the fervor of emotion mani- 
fested by the lad, and immediately complied 
with his request. Josephine called upon him 
the next day to thank him for his kindness to 
her son. He was at this interview as deeply 



fV.D. 1795] Rklf;a.?e from Prison. 101 



Napoleon regards Josephine with Interest Her opinion of him. 

impressed by the fascinations of the mother as 
h-3 had previously been struck by the noble 
bearing of the child. After this they frequent 
!y met, and Josephine could not be blind to tho 
(jitcrest with which she was regarded by Na- 
poleon. Situated as he then was, it was social 
elevation to him to be united with Madanie Je 
Beauharnais, and her rank, and influence, and 
troops of friends would greatly aid him in his 
ambitious plans. It is also unquestionably true 
that Napoleon formed a very strong attachment 
for Josephine. Indeed, she was the only person 
whom he ever truly loved. That he did love her 
at times most passionately there can be no doubt. 

Josephine, however, had many misgivings 
respecting the expediency of the union. She 
stated to her friends that he was the most fas- 
cinating man that she had ever met ; that she 
admired his courage, the quickness of his judg- 
ment, the extent of his information. She, how^ 
ever, confessed that she did not really love hir"- 
— -that she stood in awe of him. " His search 
ing glance," she says, '' mysterious and inox 
plicable, imposes even upon lur Directors*-- 
judge if it may not intimidate i. woman." 

" Being now past the heyday of youth," she 
(Vrites in a li'ttor to a friend, "can I hojio Ions 



lOS Josephine. [A.D 1795 



Letter to a friend. Foresight of Napoleon 



to preserve that ardor of attachment which, in 
the general, resembles a fit of delirium ? If, 
iftcr our union, he should cease to love me, 
will he not reproach me with what he will have 
sacrificed for my sake ? Will he not regret a 
more brilliant marriage which he might have 
ooniracted ? What shall I then reply ? What 
shall I do ? I shall weep. Excellent resource ! 
you will say. Alas ! I know that all this can 
serve no end ; but it has ever been thus ; tears 
are the only resource left me when this poor 
heart, so easily chilled, has suffered. Write 
quickly, and do not fear to scold me, should you 
judge that I am wrong. You know that what- 
'^.ver comes from your pen will be taken in goo(P 
part. 

" Barras gnos assurance that if I marry the 
general, he will so contrive as to have him ap 
pointed to the command of the army of Italy 
Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of this favor, 
which already excites murmuring among his 
fellow-soldiers, though it be as yet only a pro:n- 
?e, said tu mt?, ' Think they, then, I have need 
•f thoir protection to arrive at power ? Egre- 
gious mistake ! They will all be but too happy 
one day should I grant them mine My sworr 
Is by my side, and with it I will go far ' 



AD. 1795.] Release from PriSon. 103 

RIt confidence. His ambicion unbounded. His mur&l principletk 

*' What say you to this security of success ? 
Is it not a proof of confidence springing from 
an excess of vanity ? A general of brigade pro- 
tect the heads of government ! that, truly, is 
an event highly probable ! I kno\ ■ not now if 
is, but sometimes this waywardness ;ains upon 
me to such a degree that almost I believe pos- 
sible whatever this singular man may take it 
in his head to attempt ; and, with his imagina- 
tion, who can calculate what he will not under- 
take ?" 

It was now winter. The storm of Revolu- 
tion had partially subsided. The times were, 
however, full of agitation and peril. Europe 
was in arms against France. There was no 
stable government and no respected laws. The 
ambitious young general consecrated his days 
with sleepless energy to his public duties, but 
each evening he devoted to Josephine. !N"apo- 
leon never manifested any taste for those dissi- 
pating pleasures which atti'act and ruin so many 
young men. He had no moral principles which 
pi-onounced such indulgences wrong, but the 
grandeur of his ambition absorbed all his ener- 
gies. He was, even at that time, a hard stu- 
dent. He was never more happy than when 
alone with Josephine, engaged in conversation 



104 Jcsi:phine, [A.D. 1795 

Napoleon's estimate of the female sex. Strength of his attachment 

or reading. His attachment for Josephine be« 
came very ardent and passionate. The fema.e 
character at this time, in France, was far frorij 
high. Napoleon had but little respect for ladies 
in general. The circumstances of his life had 
led him to form a low estimate of the sex. He 
often said that all the rest of the sex were noth- 
ing compared with Josephine. He frequently 
gave public breakfasts to his friends, at which 
Josephine universally presided, though other la- 
dies were invited. 

In the pleasant mansion of Josephine, Napo- 
leon was in the habit of meeting a small cir- 
cle of select friends, who were strongly attached 
to Josephine, and who were able, and for her 
sake were willing to promote his interests. Na- 
poleon was a man of strong affections, but of 
stronger ambition. Josephine was entirely sat- 
isfied with the singleness and the ardor of his 
lovo. She sometimes trembled in view of its 
violence. She often remarked to her friends 
that he was incompaiably the most fascinating 
rjan she had ever met. All have equally at- 
tested Napoleon's unrivaled powders of pleasing, 
whenever it suited his purpose to mak3 the ef 
fort. Tho winter thus rapidly and pleasantly 
passed a^'ay 



A. D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 1()5 

Marriage of Josephine aud Napuleou. The army of Italy. 



Chapter YI. 
Josephine in Italy. 

01^ the 9tli of March, 1796, Josepliine was 
married to l^apoleoii. TheRevohition had 
swept away every thing tliat was sacred in 
human and divine institutions, and the attempt 
had been made to degrade marriage into a mere 
partnership, which any persons miglit contract 
or dissolve at pleasure. According to the Rev- 
olutionary form, Josephine and Xapoleou pre- 
sented themselves before a magistrate, and sim- 
ply announced their union. A few friends at- 
tended as witnesses of the ceremony. 

Napoleon had, in the mean time, been ap- 
pointed commander of the French forcesin Italy. 
In tv7elve days after his nuptials, he ieft his 
bride and hastened to the army, then in the 
lowest state of poverty and siiffeiing. The vet- 
eran'generals, when they first saw the pale-faced 
youth who was placed over them all, were dis- 
posed to treat him with contempt. Hardly an 
liour elapsed after his arrival ere they felt and 
admitted that lie was tlieir master. He seemed 



106 Josephine. [A.D.1796 

Proclamation :f Napoleon. He Is called an ignoramus 

insensible to mental exhaustion, or fatigue, oi 
hunger, or want of sleep. He was upon horse- 
back night and day. Almost supernatural ao- 
tivity was infused into the army. It fell like 
m avalanche upon the Austrians. In fifteen 
days after he took command, he proclaimed te 
ais exulting and victorious troops, 

" Soldiers ! you have gained in fifteen days 
six victories, taken one-and-twenty standards, 
fifty-five pieces of cannon, many strong places, 
and conquered the richest part of Piedmont; 
you have made fifteen thousand prisoners, and 
killed or wounded ten thousand men." 

Paris was perfectly intoxicated with the an,- 
nouncement, day after day, of these brilliant 
achievements. The name of Napoleon was 
upon every lip, and all France resounded with 
his praises. *' This young commander," said 
one of the discomfited veteran generals of the 
Austrian army, " knows nothing whatever about 
the art of war. He is a perfect ignoramus 
He sets at defiance all the established rules of 
military tactics. There is no doing any thing 
witn him." 

Napoleon, after a series of terrible conflicts 
and most signal triumphs, drove the Austrians 
out of Italy, pursued them into their ©wn ooun- 



A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 107 

Josephine ut Montebello. Her popularity 

try, and at Leoben, almost within sight of the 
steeples of Vienna, dictated a peace, which 
crowned him, in the estimation of his country- 
fn'3n, with the highest glory. Josephine now 
vent from Paris to Italy to meet her triumph- 
ant husband. They took up their residence at 
the Castle of Montebello, a most delightful 
country seat in the vicinity of Milan. 

And here Josephine passed a few months of 
almost unalloyed happiness. The dark and 
tempestuous days through which she had re- 
cently been led, had prepared her to enjoy most 
exquisitely the calm which ensued. She had 
been in the deepest penury. She was now in 
the enjoyment of all that wealth could confer. 
She had been widowed and homeless. She was 
now the wife of a victorious sreneral who«e 
fame was reverberating through Europe, and 
her home combined almost every conceivable 
attraction. She had been a prisoner doomed 
to (lie, and her very jailer leared to speak to hei 
in tones of kinaness Now she was caressed by 
aobles and princes ; all the splendors of a court 
surrounded her, and every heart did her homage 
Tosephine presided at all her receptions and en- 
tertainments with an elegance of manner sc 
winning as perfectly to fascinate the Milanesft 



lOS JosEPHI^E. [A.D. 1796 

Pleasure excursions. Isola Bella 

" J conquer provinces," said Napoleon of her ai 
that time, " but Josephine wins hearts." The 
vicinity of Montebello combines perhaps as much 
of the beautiful and the sublime in scenery at 
can be found at any other spot on the surface 
of the globe. Napoleon sympathized most cor- 
dially with Josephine in her appreciation of the 
beautiful and the romantic ; and though he 
devoted the energies of his mind, with unsleep- 
ing diligence, to the ambitious plans which en- 
grossed him, he found time for many delightful 
excursions with his fascinating bride. There 
Ls not, perhaps, in Italy a more lovely drive than 
that from IMilan, along the crystal waters of 
Lake Como to Lake IMas^j^iore. This romantic 
lake, embosomed among the mountains, with its 
densely wooded islands and picturesque shores, 
was a favorite resort for excursions of pleasure. 
Here, in gay parties, they floated in boats, with 
well-trained rowers, and silken awnings, and 
streaming pennants, and riivishing music. Th* 
island of Isola Bella, or Beautiful Island, with 
its arcades, its hanging gardens, and its palaoe 
of monkish gloom, was Napoleon's favorite land- 
ing-place. Here they often partook of refresh- 
ments, and engaged with all vivacity in rural 
festivities. It is stated that, while enjoying one 



A. D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. Ill 



4necdote Ambition of Napoleoa 

of these excursions, Josephine, with one or two 
other ladies, was standing under a beautiful 
orange-tree, loaded with fruit, with the atteii' 
tion of the party all absorbed in admiring the 
beauties of the distant landscape. Napoleon, 
anperceived. cre,*r* ^m the tree, and by a sudden 
shake brougnt aci7:i quite a shower of the golden 
fruit upon the ladies. The companions of Jo- 
sephine screamed with affright and r^ n from the 
tree. She, however, accustomed to such pleas- 
antries, suspected the source, and remained un- 
moved. *' Why, Josephine I" exclaimed Napo- 
leon, " you stand fire like one of my veterans." 
"And why should I not?" she promptly replied 
** am I no-^ ^^he wife of the> commanrler ?" 

Napoiec, during these scenes of apparent 
relaxation, had but one thought — ambition. 
His capacious mind was ever restless, ever ex- 
cited, not exactly with the desire of persona) 
aggrandizement, but of mighty enterprise, of 
magnificent achievement. Josephine, with her 
boundless popularity and her arts of persuasion, 
though she often trembled in view of the limit- 
less aspirations of her husband, was extremely 
influential in winning to him the powerful 
friends by whom they were surrounded. 

The achievements which Napoleon accom- 



il2 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 



Kis achievements. Fears of the Directory 

plished during the short Italian campaign are 
perhaps unparalleled in ancient or modern war- 
fare. 

With a number of men under his command 
ever inferior to the forces of the Austrians, he 
maneuvered always to secure, at any one point, 
an array superior to that of his antagonists. Ho 
3ut up four several armies which were sent from 
Austria to oppose him, tooK one nunared and 
fifteen thousand prisoners, one hundred and sev- 
enty staadards, eleven hundred and forty pieces 
of battering cannon and field artillery, and drove 
the Austrians from the frontiers of France to 
the walls of Vienna. He was every where hail- 
}d as the liberator of Italy ; and., encircled with 
the pomp and the power of a monarch, he re- 
ceived such adulation as monarchs rarely enjoy. 

The Directory in Paris began to tremble in 
view of the gigantic strides which this ambitious 
general was making. They surrounded him 
rr.th spies to garner up his words, to watch his 
a '^tiDns, and, if possible, to detect his plans. Bnl 
the marble face of this incomprehensible youth 
told no secrets. Even to Josephine he revealed 
not his intentions ; and no mortal scrutiny could 
explore the thoughts fermenting in his deep and 
capacious mind. His personal appearance ai 



A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 113 



Description of Napoleon. His reserve. 



this time is thus described by an observer of his 
triumphal entrance into Milan : 

'' I beheld with deep interest and extreme at- 
tention that extraordinary man who has per- 
formed such great deeds, and about wliom there 
is something wliich seems to indicate that liis 
career is not yet terminated. I found him very 
like liis portrait, small in stature, thin, pale, 
wnth the air of fatigue, but not in ill health. 
He appeared to me to listen with more abstrac- 
tion tlian interest, as if occupied rather with 
w^hat he w^as thinking of than with what was 
said to him. There is great intelligence in his 
countenance, along with an expression of habit- 
ual meditation, which reveals nothing of w^hat 
is passing within. In that thinking head, in 
that daring mind, it is impossible not to sup- 
pose that some designs are engendering which 
shall have their influence upon the destinies of 
Europe." 

IS'apoleon was fully confident of the jealousy 
he had aroused, and of the vigilance wdth whicli 
he was w^atched. His caution often wounded 
Josephine, as he was as impenmrable to her in 
refei-enceto all his political plans as to anyone 
else. While she at times loved him almost to 
adoration, she ever felt in awe of the unexplored 

H 



114 Josephine [A.D. 1796 

Remark of Josephine. Secret plans of Napoleon. 

recesses of his mind. He appeared frequently 
lost in thought, and, perfectly regardless of Ihe 
pomp and the pageantry with which he was 
surrounded, he gave unmistakable indications 
that he regarded the achievements he had al- 
ready accomplished as very trivial — merely the 
commencement of his ca'reer. She once re- 
marked to a friend, " During the many years 
we have now passed together, I never once be- 
held Bonaparte for a moment at ease — not even 
with myself. He is constantly on the alert. If 
at any time he appears to show a little confi- 
dence, it is merely a feint to throw the person 
with whom he is conversing off his guard, and 
to draw forth his real sentiments, but never 
does he himself disclose his own thoughts.*' 

Napoleon now deemed it expedient to visit 
Paris ; for he despised the weakness and the m- 
efficiency of those who, amid the surges of ilia 
Revolution, had been elevated there to the su^ 
preme power, and already he secretly contem- 
plated the overthrow of the government, as soon 
as an opportunity promising success should bt 
presented. Josephine, with her children, re- 
mained in Milan, that she might continue tc 
dazzle the eyes of the Milanese with the splen- 
dor of the establishment of the Liberator of It- 



A..D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 115 

Napoleon's love for Josephine. Her influence OTer him 

aly, and that she might watch ovor the inter- 
ests of her illustrious spouse. 

She gave splendid entertainments. Her sa- 
loons were ever thronged with courtiers, and 
the inimitable grace she possessed enabled her, 
with ease and self-enjoyment, to preside with 
queenly dignity over every scene of gayety. 
She was often weary of this incessant gicindeur 
and display, but the wishes of her husband and 
her peculiar position seemed to afford her no 
choice. Napoleon unquestionably loved Jose- 
phine as ardently as he was capable of loving 
any one. He kept up a constant, almost a 
daily correspondence with her. Near the close 
of his life, he declared that lie was indebted to 
hei for every moment of ha})piness he had known 
on earth. Ambition was, however, with Na- 
poleon a far more powerful passion than love. 
He was fully conscious that he needed the as- 
sistance of his most accomplished wife to raise 
him to that elevation he was resolved to attain. 
Self-reliant as he was, regardless as he ever ap» 
peared to be of the opinions or the advice of 
others, the counsel of Josephine had m«»re influ- 
ence over him than perhaps that of all other 
persons combined. Her expostulations not un- 
frequently modified his plans, though his high 



116 Josephine. [ A.D. 1.796 

k young aid-de-cainp. Aflfection of the Italians for Napoleon 

spirit could not brook the acknowledgment 
Hortense and Eugene were with Josephine at 
Milan Eugene, though but seventeen years 
of age, had joined Napoleon in the field as one 
of his aids, and had signalized himself by many 
acts of bravery. 

In this arrangement we see an indication ol 
the plans of boundless ambition which were al- 
ready maturing in the mind of Bonaparte. The 
Italians hated their proud and domineering mas- 
ters, the Austrians. They almost adored Na- 
poleon as their deliverer. He had established 
the Cisalpine Republic, and conferred upon them 
a degree of liberty which for ages they had not 
enjoyed. Napoleon had but to unfurl his ban- 
ner, and the Italians, in countless thousands, 
were ready to rally around it. The army in 
Italy regarded the Little Corporal with senti- 
ments of veneration and affection, for which we 
may search history in vain for a parallel. Ita- 
ly consequently became the base of Nape Icon's 
operations. There he was strongly intrenched. 
In case of failure in any of his operations in 
Paris, he could retire behind the Alps, and bid 
defiance to his foes. 

Josephine was exactly the partner he needed 
(o piotect these all-important interests during 



A.I). 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 117 

Josephine aa ally. She is at home in every situation 

his absence. Her strong and active intelligence) 
her sincerity, her unrivaled powers of fascina- 
ting all who approached her, and her entire de- 
votion to Napoleon, rendered her an ally of ex^ 
ceeding efficiency. Powerful as was the arm 
of Napoleon, he never could have risen to the 
greatness he attained without the aid of Jose- 
phine. She, at Milan, kept up the splendor of 
a royal court. The pleasure-loving Italians 
ever thronged her saloons. The most illustri- 
ous nobles were emulous to win her favor, that 
they might obtain eminence in the service of 
her renowned spouse. At the fetes and enter 
tainments she gave to the rejoicing Milanese 
she obtained access to almost every mind it was 
desirable to influence. No one could approach 
Josephine without becoming her friend, and a 
friend once gained was never lost. A weak 
woman, under these circumstances, which sc 
severely tested the character, would have been 
often extremely embarrassed, and would havo 
!nade many mistakes. It was remarkable in 
Josephine, that, notwithstanding the seclusion 
of her childhood and early youth, she ever ap- 
peared self-possessed, graceful, and at home in 
every situation in whidi she was placed. She 
moved through the dazzling scenes of her court 



118 JOSEPHINF [A.D.1796 

Unoinbarraesed air of Josephine. She becomes the queen of etiquette 

at Milan, scenes of unaccustomed brilliance 
wliich had so suddenly burst upon her, with an 
air as entirely natural and unembarrassed as if 
her whole life had been passed in the saloons 
of monarchs. She conversed with the mosi 
distinguished generals of armies, with nobles of 
the highest rank, with statesmen and scholars 
of wide-spread renown, with a fluency, an ap- 
propriateness, and an inimitable tact which 
would seem to indicate that she had been cra- 
dled in the lap of princes, and nurtured in the 
society of courts. It seemed never to be neces- 
sary for her to study the rules of etiquette. She 
was never accustomed to look to others to as- 
certain what conduct was proper under any cir- 
cumstances. Instinctive delicacy was her un- 
erring teacher, and from her bearing others 
compiled their code of politeness. She became 
the queen of etiquette, not the subject. 

Thus, while Napoleon, in Paris, was cau- 
tiously scrutinizing the state of public afTairSj 
and endeavoring to gain a position there, Jose- 
phine, with the entire concentration of aL hei 
energies to his interests, was gaining for him 
in Milan vast accessions of power. She had no 
oonception, indeed, of the greatness he was des« 
tined to attain. But she loved her husband 



A.D. 17^6.] Josephine in Italy. 119 

Josephine an object of homage. Her pywers of fascination 

She was proud of his rising renown, and it was 
her sjle ambition to increase, in every way in 
her power, the luster of his name. Aristocracy 
3ir:lod around her in delighted homage, while 
poverty, charmed by her sympathy and her be- 
neficence, ever greeted her with acclamations. 
The exploits of Napoleon dazzled the world, and 
the unthinking world has attributed his great- 
ness to his own unaided arm. But the gentle- 
ness of Josephine was one of the essential ele- 
ments in the promotion of his greatness. In 
co-operation with her, he rose. As soon as he 
abandoned her, he fell. 

Josephine soon rejoined her husband in Par- 
is, where she very essentially aided, by her fas- 
cinating powers of persuasion, in disarming the 
hostility of those who were jealous of his rising 
fame, and in attaching to him such adherents 
as could promote his interests. In the saloons 
of Josephine, many of the most heroic youths 
r'* France were led to ally their fortunes with 
those of the young general, whose fame had so 
suddenly burst upon the world. She had the 
rare faculty of diffusing animation and cheer- 
fulness wherever she appeared. ** It is," she 
once beautifully remarked, " a necessity of my 
heart to love others, and to be loved by them 



'lUO Josephine. |A.D. 17^*6 

''opular entbuslasm. Affected seclusion of Napoleoa 

in return." " There is only one occasion,^' she 
again said, " in which I would voluntarily use 
the words / willf namely, when I would say, 
' [ vnll that all around me be happy.' " 

Napoleon singularly displayed his knowledge 
of human nature in the course he pursued upo j 
his return to Paris. He assumed none of th. 
pride of a conqueror. He studiously avoided 
every thing like ostentatious display. Day aft. 
er day his lieutenants arrived, bringing the 
standards taken from the Austrians. Pictures, 
and statues, and other works of art extorted 
from the conquered, were daily making their 
appearance, keeping the metropolis in a state 
of the most intense excitement. The Parisians 
were never weary of reading and re-reading 
those extraordinary proclamations of Napoleon, 
which, in such glowing language, described his 
almost miraculous victories. The enthusiasm 
of the people was thus raised to the highest 
pitch. The anxiety of the public to see thi? 
young and mysterious victor was intense be- 
yond description. But he knew enough of the 
human heart to be conscious that, by avoiding 
the gratification of these wishes, he did but en- 
hance their intensity. Modestly retiring to an 
unoftentatious mansion in the Rue Chante- 



A..D. 179©.] Josephine in Italy. 121 

fle becomes etudioQS. Hia laudable em ilation. His noble ambitioa 



reino, which, in compliment to him, had received 
the name of Rue de la Victoire, he secluded 
himself from the public gaze. He devoted hia 
iiine most assiduously to study, and to conver- 
fiation with learned men. He laid aside his 
military garb, and assumed the plain dress of a 
member of the Institute. When he walked the 
streets, he was seldom recognized by the people. 
Though his society was courted in the highest 
circles of Paris, his ambition was too lofty to 
be gratified with shining among the stars of 
fashion. Though he had as yet reached but the 
twenty-sixth year of his age, he had already 
gained the reputation of being the first of gen- 
erals. He was emulous not only of appearing 
to be, but also of actually being, an accomplished 
scholar. "I well knew," said he, "that the 
lowest drummer in the army would respect me 
more for being a scholar as well as a soldier." 
Napoleon might have enriched himself b& 
yond all bounds in his Italian campaign had hi 
been disposed to do so. Josephine, at times, 
remonstrated against his personal habits of 
economy, while he was conferring millions add- 
ed to millions upon France. But the ambition 
of her husband, inordinate as it was, was as 
sublime an ambition as any one could feel in 



122 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 

KapoIeoD tbe idcl of the army. Anecdote 

view of merely worldly interests. He wished 
to acquire the renown of benefiting nankind by 
the performance of the noblest exploits. His 
ultimate end was his own fame. But he knew 
that the durability of that fame could only be 
secured by the accomplishment of noble ends. 

The effeminate figure of Napoleon in these 
early days had caused the soldiers to blend with 
their amazed admiration of his mihtary genius 
a kind of fondness of affection for which no par- 
allel can be found in ancient or modern story. 
The soldiers were ever rehearsing to one anoth* 
er, by their night-fires and in their long marches, 
anecdotes of his perfect fearlessness, his brilliant 
sayings, his imperious bearing, by which he 
overawed the haughtiness of aristocratic power, 
and his magnanimous acts toward the poor and 
the lowly. 

One night, when the army in Italy was in 
f?reat peril, worn out with the fatigue of sleep- 
lessness and of battle, and surrounded by A u* 
trians. Napoleon was taking the round of hig 
posts in disguise, to ascertain the vigilance ol 
his sentinels. He found one poor soldier, in 
perfect exhaustion, asleep at his post. Napo- 
leon shouldered his musket, and stood sontry 
for him for half an hour When the m«in awoke 



A D. 179G.J JosKPHiA^E IN Italy. 1% 

Napoleon mounts guard The "Little CurporaL" 

and recognized the countenance of his general, 
he sank back upon the ground in terror and 
despair He knew that death was the doom 
for such a crime. " Here, comrade," said Na- 
poleon, kindly, " here is your musket. You 
have fought hard and marched long, and your 
sleep is excusable. But a moment's inatten- 
tion might at present ruin the army. I hap 
pened to be awake, and have guarded youi post 
for you. You will be more careful another 
time." 

At the " terrible passage of the bridge of 
Lodi," Napoleon stood at one of the guns, in 
the very hottest of the fire, directing it with his 
own hand. The soldiers, delighted at this very 
unusual exhibition of the readiness of their gen- 
eral to share all the toils and perils of the hum- 
blest private in the ranks, gave him the hon 
orary and affectionate nickname of '' The Little 
Corporal." By this appellation he was after- 
ward universally known in the army. The 
enthusiasm of the soldiers invested him with 
srpernatural endowments, and every one was 
ready at any moment to peril life for the Little 
Corporal 

The government at Paris, rapidly waning in 
popularity, notwithstanding their extreme jeal- 



124 Josephine. [A.D. 179t 



Triumphal f§te. Song of the soldiers. Speech of Barrsu 

ousy of the vdde-spreading influence of this vic- 
torious general, was compelled, by the sponta« 
neous acclamations of the people, to give him a 
public triumph, when the famous treaty which 
Napoleon had effected in Italy was to be for- 
mally presented to the Directory. The mag- 
nificent court of the Luxembourg was embel* 
lished with the flags of the armies which he had 
conquered, and the youthful hero of Lodi, of 
Areola, and of Rivoli made his first triumphant 
appearance in the streets of Paris. The en- 
thusiasm of the vast concourse of excitable Pa- 
risians overleaped all bounds. The soldiers of 
the proud army of Italy sang at their encamp- 
ments, in enthusiastic chorus, a song in which 
they declared that it was high time to eject the 
lawyers from the government, and make the 
Little Corporal the ruler of France. Barras, 
the friend of Josephine, who had selected Na- 
poleon to quell the insurrection in Paris, and 
who had secured to him the command of the 
irmy of Italy, declared in a eulogistic speech 
on this occasion that "Nature had exhausted 
all her powers in the creation of a Bonaparte." 
This sentiment was received with the most 
deafening peals of applause. 

But how like the phantasmagoria of maf^o 



A..D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 12.^ 

Remarkable contrast. Josephine the center of attraction 

has this change burst upon the bewildered Jo- 
sephine. But a few months before, her hus- 
band, wan and wasted with imprisonment and 
woe, had been led from the subterranean dui • 
geons of this very palace, with the execratioi a 
of the populace torturing hi' ear, to bleed upon 
the scaffold. Sbe, also, was then herself a pris- 
oner, without even a pillow for her weary head, 
awaiting the dawn of the morning which was 
to conduct her steps to a frightful death. Her 
children, Hortense and Eugene, had been res 
cued from homelessness, friendlessness, and beg- 
gary only by the hand of charity, and were de- 
pendent upon that charity for shelter and for 
daily bread. Now the weeds of widowhood have 
given place to the robes of the rejoicing bride, 
and that palace is ^o-geously decorated in honor 
of the wovld-renowned companion upon whose 
arm she proudly leans. The acclamations re- 
sounding to his praise reverberate over mount- 
ain and valley, through every city and villago 
of France. Princes, embassadors, and cour- 
tiers obsequiously crowd the saloons of Jose- 
phine. Eugene, an officer in the army, high in 
rank and honor, is lured along life's perilous 
pathway by the most brilliant prospects. Hor- 
tense Vn dazzling beauty, and surrounded by ad- 



126 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 



Josephine the " Star of Napoleon." She is a ministering angei 

mirerp, is intoxicated with the splendor, which, 
like Oriental enchantment, has burst upon hei 
?iew. 

Josephine, so beautifully called " the Star of 
Napoleon," was more than the harbinger of his 
rising. She gave additional luster to his brill- 
iance, and was as the gentle zephyr, which 
sweeps away the mists and vapors, and presents 
a transparent sky through which the undimmed 
luminary may shine. Her persuasive influence 
was unweariedly and most successfully exerted 
in winning friends and in disarming adversaries. 
The admiration which was excited for the stern 
warrior in his solitary, silent, unapproachable 
grandeur, whose gariuents had been dyed in 
blood, whose fearful path had been signalized 
by conflagrations, and shrieks, and the wailinga 
of the dying, w^as humanized and softened by 
the gentle loveliness of his companion, who was 
«ver a ministering angel, breathing words of 
.cinchiess, and diflfusing around her the spirit of 
harmony and love. Napoleon ever freely ac- 
knowledged his indebtedness to Josephine for 
her aid in these morning hours of his greatness 

But unalloyed happiness is never allotted tt 
mortals. Josephine's very loveliness of person 
and of character was to her the occasion of 



A..D. 1796.] Josephine in Itai >. 127 

Jealousy of Napoleon. Arte of her enemies to encourage it 

many hours of heaviness. No one could be in- 
sensible to the power of her attractions. The 
music of her voice, the sweetness of her smile, 
the grace of her manners, excited so much ad- 
miration, invested her with a popularity so uni- 
versal and enthusiastic, that Napoleon was, at 
times, not a little disturbed by jealousy. Her 
appearance was ever the signal for crowds to 
gather around her. The most distinguished 
and the most gallant men in France vied with 
each other in doing her homage. Some of the 
relatives of Napoleon, envious of the influence 
she exerted over her illustrious spouse, and 
anxious, by undermining her power, to subserve 
their own interests, were untiring in their en 
deavors to foster all these jealousies. Jose])hine 
was exceedingly pained by the occasional indi- 
cations of her husband's distrust. A word from 
his lips, a glance from his eye, often sent her to 
her chamber with weeping eyes and an aching 
heart. An interview with her husband, Ikow. 
3ver, invariably removed his suspicions, and ho 
ajave her renewed assurances of his confidence 
and his love. 

The plans of Napoleon in reference to his fu- 
ture operations were still in a state of great 
ancertaintv His restless spirit could not brook 



r4S Josephine. [A.D. 1790 

rhe " pear" not ye* ripe. Napoleon resolves to go to Egypt 

inactivity. He saw clearly that the time had 
not yet come in which he could, with the pros- 
pect of success, undertake to overthrow the 
Revolutionary government and grasp the reins 
of power himself. Tc use his own expressive 
language, ^' The pear was not yet ripe." Tc 
one of his intimate friends he remarked, ''They 
do not long preserve at Paris the remembrance 
of any thing. If I remain any length of time 
unemployed, I am undone. The renown of one, 
in this great Babylon, speedily supplants that 
of anothe . If I am seen three times at the 
opera, I shall no longer be an object of curiosity. 
You nefid not talk of the desire of the citizens 
to see me. Crowds, at least as great, would go 
to see me led out to the scaffold. I am de- 
termined not to remain in Paris. There is 
nothing here to be done. Every thing here 
passes away. My glory is already declining 
This little corner of Europe is too small to sup. 
ply it. We must go to the East. All the great 
men of the world have there acquired thjir ce- 
lebrity. We will go to Egypt." 

Such was the grandeur of the dreams of a 
young man who had not yet passed his twenty- 
sixth year. And these were not the nmsings of 
a wild and visionary brain, but the deeply laid 



A.D 1797.J Josephine in Italy. 12f» 



M«£TiJfiron«*»» 'f his plans 



and cautiously guarded plans of a mind which 
had meditated profoundly upon all probable 
-Tnergencies, and which had carefully w^eighed 
111 the means which could be furnished for the 
iccomplishment of an enterprise so arduous and 
If) majestic. 

I 



i30 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 

Jontemplated invasion of England. Expedition to Egypt 



Chk-pter VII. 

Josephine at Malmaison. 

rilHE Directory in Paris became daily more 
■*■ and more a) armed, in view of the \ast and 
ever-imreasing popularity of the conqueror of 
[taly. A plan iiad been formed for the invasion 
f England, and this was deemed a good oppor- 
tunity for sending from France their dangerous 
rival. Napoleon was appointed commander-in- 
chief of the army of England. He visited the 
ooast, and devoted ten days and nights, with 
his extraordinary rapidity of apprehension, in 
investigating the prospects of success. He re- 
turned to Paris, saying, "It is too douttml a 
chance. I will not hazard on such a throw the 
fate of France." All his energies were then 
turned to his Egyptian expedition. He hoped 
to gain reputation and power in Egypt, pass 
through into India, raise an army of natives, 
headed by European officers and energized by 
an infusion of European soldiers, and thus drive 
the English out of India. It was a bold plan. 
The very grandeur of the enterprise roused the 



A..D.1798.J J osEPHiNE AT Malm Also N. 131 

Hopes of the Directory. Napoleon's dislike of thp Rpvolutioa. 

enthusiasm of France. The Directory, secretly 
rejoicing at the prospect of sending Napoleon 
tK) far away, and hoping that he would perish 
en the sands of Africa, without much reluctance 
agreed to his proposal. 

Napoleon never loved the Revolution, and he 
most thoroughly detested the infamous and san- 
guinary despotism which had risen upon the 
ruins of the altar and the throne. He chanced 
U) be in Paris when the drunken and rao^cred 
mob. like an inundation, broke into tlic Tuille- 
ries, and heaped upon the humiliated Louis 
XVI. and Maria Antoinette the most infamous 
outrages. He saw the monarch standing at the 
window of his palace, with the dirty red cap oi 
Jacobinism thrust upon that brow which had 
worn the crown of Charlemagne. At the sight, 
the blood boiled in the veins of the youthful 
Napoleon. He could not endure the spectacle 
Turning upon his heel, he indignantly exclaim- 
ed, " The wretches ! had they mown down foui 
or five hundred with grape-shot, the rest woul<? 
'Speedily have taken to flight." 

He often expressed his dislike of the violent 
revolutionary course which the Directory were 
pursuing, and stated freely to his friends, ''For 
JDry part, T declare, that if I had only the option 



132 JosEPHiisE [AD. 1798 

^ ^ 

WapoleoD 8 lloyallBt. Sailing of the espcditicn 

between royalty and the system of these gen- 
tlemen, I would not hesitate for one moment t< 
declare for a king." Just before Napolaon em 
barked for the East, Bourrienne asked him il 
he was really determined to risk his fate on the 
perilous expedition to Egypt. " Yes !" he re- 
plied. " If I should remain here, it would be 
necessary to overturn this miserable govern- 
ment, and make myself king. But we must 
not think of that yet. The nobles will not con- 
sent to it. I have sounded, but I find the time 
for that has not yet arrived. I must first daz- 
zle these gentlemen by my exploits." 

On the morning of the 19th of May, 1798, 
the fleet set sail from the harbor of Toulon. It 
was a morning of surpassing loveliness, and 
seldom, if ever, has the unclouded sun shone 
upon a more brilliant scene. The magnificent 
armament extended over a semicircle of not less 
than eighteen miles. The fleet consisted of 
thirteen ships of the line, fourteen frigates, and 
four hundred transports. They carried forty 
thousand picked soldiers, and officers of tiw 
highest celebrity. For the first time in the 
world, a corps of scientific gentlemen was at- 
tached tf ' a military expedition. One hundred 
eminent *.rtists and connoisseurs Naf»olecn had 



A..D. 1796.] Joseph neatMaa-maison. l^JJi 

4 corps ot savant. Josephine in Toulon. Plan of Napoleon 

eollected to gather the antiquarian treasures of 
Egypt, and to extend the boundaries of science 
by the observation of the phenomena of nature. 
They formed a part of the staff of the irvading 
in ny. 

Josephine accompanied her husband to Tou- 
lon, and remained with him until his embarka- 
tion. She was extremely anxious to go with 
him to Egypt, and with tears plead that he 
would allow her to share his hardships and his 
perils. Napoleon, however, deemed the haz- 
ards to which they would be exposed, and the 
fatigues and sufferings they must necessarily 
endure, as quite too formidable for Josephine 
to encounter. But in the anguish of their part- 
ing, which is described as most tender, she 
wrung from him a promise to allow her to fol- 
low as soon as affairs in the East should render 
it prudent for her to do so. It can hardly be 
possible, however, that Napoleon ever expected 
to see her in Egypt. He himself has thus de- 
scribed the objects he had in view in this vast 
enterprise : " 1. To establish on the banks ol 
the Nile a French colony, which could exist 
without slaves, and supply the place of Saint 
Domingo. 2. To open a market for the man- 
ufactures of France in Africa, Arabia, and 



134 Josephine. fA.D. 179S 



No obstacle insurmountable. Loneliness of Josephine 

Syria, and to obtain for the productions of his 
countrymen the productions of those countries. 
^. To set out from Egypt, with an army of sixty 
thousand men, for the Indus, rouse the Mah- 
rattas to a revolt, and excite against the En- 
glish the population of those vast countries. 
Sixty thousand men, half Europeans, half na- 
tives, transported on fifty thousand camels and 
ten thousand horses, carrying with them pro- 
visions for fifty days, water for six, with one 
hundred and fifty pieces of cannon and double 
ammunition, would arrive in four months in 
India. The ocean ceased to be an obstacle 
when vessels were constructed. The desert 
becomes passable the moment you have camels 
and dromedaries in abundance." 

As the fleet got under way, Josephine stood 
upon a balcony, with tearful eyes, gazing upon 
the scene, so imposing, and yet so sorrowful to 
her. The Orient, a ship of enormous magni- 
tude, contained her husband and her son. They 
were going into the midst of dangers from 
whence it was doubtful whether they would 
ever return. She fixed her eyes upon the ship 
as its lessening sails grew fainter and fainter in 
the distance, until the hardly discernible speck 
disappeared beneath the horizon, wliioh the blue 



A.D. 1798.] Josephine < t Malmaison. 135 

Residence at Plombidre*. Josephine eenda for her daughter 

waves of the Mediterranean outlined. She 
retired to her room with those feelings of lone- 
liness and desolation which the circumstance'.3 
were so peculiarly calculated to inspire. 

It was arranged that Josephine should take 
op her residence, until Napoleon should send 
for her, at Plombieres, a celebrated watering- 
place, whose medicinal springs were supposed 
to be very efficacious in res*x)ring maternity. 
She sent for Hortense, at that time fifteen years 
of age, and who was then in the boarding-schoo 
of the distinguished Madame Campan. Jose- 
phine wished for her daughter to be her com 
panion during the weary hours of her absence 
from her husband. She was expecting that, 
as soon as a landing should be effected in Egypt, 
a frigate would be dispatched to convey her to 
the banks of the Nile. She found solace during 
the lingering weeks of expectation in devoting 
herself to the instruction of her daughter. Hei 
comprehensive and excellent views on the sub- 
ject of education are developed in a letter which 
«he at this time wrote to Madame Campan, J^ 
accompany a niece who was to return to hej 
school : 

*' My dear Madame Campan, — With m^ 
aiece, whom I return to your charge, receive 



136 Josephine [A.D. 17^^ 



Letter to Madrnne Campari. 



also my thanks and my reproof. The formal 
are due for the great care and brilliant educa- 
tion which you have bestowed upon the child ; 
the latter, for the faults which your sagacity 
must have discovered, but which your indul- 
gence has tolerated. The girl is gentle, but 
shy ; well informed, but haughty ; talented, but 
thoughtless. She does not please, and takes no 
pains to render herself agreeable. She conceives 
that the reputation of her uncle and the bravery 
of her father are every thing. Teach her, and 
that by the most effectual means, how absolute- 
ly unavailing are those qualities which are not 
personal. We live in an age where each is the 
author of his own fortunes ; and if those who 
serve the state in the first ranks ought to have 
some advantages and enjoy some privileges, they 
should, on that account, strive only to render 
themselves more beloved and more useful. It 
is solely by acting thus that they can have some 
chance of excusing their good fortune in the eyes 
if envy Of these things, my dear Madame 
Jampan, you must not allow my niece to re- 
main ignorant ; and such are the instrucfje^.s 
which, in my name, you should repeat to hei 
constantly. It is my pleasure that she treat as 
equals every one of her companions, most of 



**.D. 1 798.] Josephine at Malmaison. 137 

Vapoleon seuds a frigate for Josephine. Serious accident 

whom are better or as good as herself, their 
only inferiority consisting in not having rela- 
tions so able or so fortunate." 

Notwithstanding Napoleon's strong disincli- 
nation to have Josephine join him in Egypt, 
and though in every letter he strongly urged 
her to relinquish the plan, she was so importu- 
nate in her solicitations that he sent the Pomo- 
na frigate to convey her across the Mediterra- 
nean. She was prevented from embarking by 
an accident, which she must have deemed a 
very serious calamity, but which probably saved 
her from years of captivity. She was one morn- 
ing sitting in her saloon, busy with her needle, 
and conversing with several ladies who were her 
companions and intimate friends, when a lady 
who was standing in the balcony called the at- 
tention of the party to a very beautiful dog 
which was passing in the street. All the ladies 
lushed upon the balcony, when, with a fearful 
crash, it broke dowr, and precipitated them 
upon the pavement. Though no lives were lost- 
leveral of the party were dreadfully injured 
Josephine was so severely bruised as to be ut- 
terly helpless, aid for some time she was fed 
like an infant. It was several months before 
she was sufficiently recovered to be able to leave 



138 Josephine. [A.D. 1798 



rSapture of the Pomona frigate. Purchase of Malmalsoa 

her house. This grievous disappointment, how- 
ever, probably saved her from a lother, which 
would have been far more severely felt. The 
frigate in which she was to have embarked, had 
it not been for this accident, was captured by 
one of the English cruisers and taken to London 

Napoleon went to Egypt because he thought 
it the shortest route to the vacant throne of the 
Bourbons. He despised the rulers who were 
degrading France, and placing a stigma upon 
popular liberty by their ignorance and their vi- 
olence, and he resolved upon their overthrow 
Consequently, while guiding the movements of 
his army upon the banks of the Nile, his atten- 
tion was continually directed to Paris. He 
wrote to Josephine that he intended ere long to 
return, and directed her to purchase a pleasant 
country seat somewhere in the vicinity of Paris. 

About ten miles from the metropolis and five 
miles from Versailles there was a beautiful 
chateau, most charmingly situated, called Mal- 
maison. This estate Josephine purchased, greats- 
ly enlarging the grounds, at an expense of about 
one hundred thousand dollars. This lovely re- 
treat possessed unfailing rural attraction for a 
mind formed, like that of Josephine, for the rich 
ftppreoiat'on of all that is Icvely in the aspeoti 



A..D. 1 799.] Josephine at Malmaison. 139 



Joaepbine removes thither. Espionage of Napoieoa 

of nature. Napoleon was deiighted with the 
purchase, and expended subsequently incredible 
sums in repairs and enlargements, and in em- 
bellishments of statues, paintings, and furni- 
ture. This was ever the favorite residence c.f 
Napoleon and Josephine. 

As the leaves of autumn began to fall, Jose- 
phine, who had been slowly recovering from the 
effects of the accident, left Plombieres and took 
up her residence at Malmaison. Napoleon was 
absent in Egypt about eighteen months. Dur- 
ing the winter and the ensuing summer, Jose- 
phine remained with Hortense, and several 
other ladies, who composed her most agreeable 
household, in this beautiful retreat. The celeb- 
rity of Napoleon surrounded them with friends, 
and that elegant mansion was the resort of the 
most illustrious in rank and intellect. Napo- 
leon, who had ever a spice of jealousy in his 
nature, had every thing reported to him which 
occurred at Malmaison. He was informed re- 
specting all the guests who visited the chateau, 
and of the conversation which passed in every 
interview. 

Hortense was a lively girl of fifteen, and the 
time hung rather heavily upon her hands. She 
amused herself in playing all manner of pranks 



140 Josephine. f A.D. 1799 



Playfulness of Hortense. Carrat The apparition 

apon a very singular valet de chambre, by the 
name of Garrat, whom her mother had brought 
from Italy. This man was very timid and eo« 
"-entrio, but, with most enthusiastic devotion 
fcltached to the service of Josephine. 

One evening Carrat received orders to attend 
Madame Bonaparte and several ladies who 
were with her in their twilight walk through 
the magnificent park belonging to the estate. 
Carrat J ever delighted with an opportunity to 
display his attachment to his kind mistress, 
obeyed with great alacrity. No ladies in peril 
could desiie a more valiant knight-errant than 
the vaunting little Italian assumed to be. They 
had not advanced far into the somber shadows 
of the grove when they saw, solemnly emerging 
from the obscurity, a tall specter in its wind- 
ing-shoet. The fearful apparition approached 
the party, when the valet, terrified beyond all 
power of self-control, and uttering the most 
fearful shrieks, abandon jd the ladies to the ten- 
\ jt mercies of the ghost, and fled. The phan- 
tom, with its white drapery fluttering in the 
wmi, pursued him. Soon the steps of the af- 
frighted valet began to falter, and he dropped 
upon the ground, insensible, in a fit. Hortense, 
who had been perfectly convulsed with laugh' 



fi D 1799.] Josephine at Mal:*aison. 141 

ilorteuse a tormentor. A shower-bath in embryo 

ter m view of the triumpihant success of her 
experimentj was now correspondingly alarmed. 
The ghost was a fellow-servant of Carrat, who 
had been dressed out under the superintendence 
of the mischievous Hortense. 

As the poor man recovered without any se- 
rious injury and without the slightest diminu- 
tion of his excessive vanity, the fun-loving Hor- 
tense could not repress her propensity still to 
make him the butt of her practical jokes. It 
was a defect in her character that she could find 
pleasure in this mischievous kind of torm.ent. 
It is not improbable that this trait of character, 
which appears so excusable in a mirthful girl 
of fifteen, was the cause of that incessant train 
of sorrows which subsequently embittered her 
whole life, Carrat was perfectly devoted to Jo- 
sephine ; Hortense was his torment. 

The unlucky valet occupied a sleeping-room 
separated from another only by a thin deal par- 
tition. A hole was made through this, and a 
lail of water so suspended in equilibrium over 
he pillow of the victim, that by drawing a cord 
ae whole contents would be emptied upon hi^ 
ead. The supports of the bedstead had alsc 
een removed, so that the^whole fabric would 
.11 as soon as any weight was placed upon it 



142 Josephine [A.D. 1799 

•'Tuita of loving darkness rather than light Murder I fire 

Carrat, among his other eccentricities, was evei 
in the habit of going to bed without a light. 
Matters being thus prepared, Hortense, who hail 
sinployed an attendant to aid her in her plans, 
stood in an adjoining room to enjoy the catas* 
trophe. 

The poor man entered his room, and threw 
himself upon his pallet. Down it came with a 
crash, and his shriek of fright was for a moment 
drowned in the inundation of water. Hortense, 
knowing the almost delirious fear which the pu- 
erile valet had of reptiles, cried, " Poor man ! 
poor man I what will he do. The water was full 
of toads." Carrat, in utter darkness, drench- 
ed with cold water, and overwhelmed in the 
ruins of his bed and bedding, shrieked, " Mur- 
der ! help ! fire ! drowning !" while Hortense 
and her accomplices enjoyed his ludicrous terror. 
She afterward made him a handsome present 
as a compensation. Hortense was not a mali- 
cious girl, but, like many others who are mirth- 
ful and thoughtless, she found a strange pleas- 
ure in teasing. Josephine's only happiness wa^ 
in making others happy. " It is a necessity oi 
my heart," she said, "to love those around me, 
and to be loved by them in return." How much 
more noble such a spirit ! 



A .D. 1799.] Jo S E P H I N E A T M A L M A I S O N. 143 

Iceephlne'a real for her husband. Letter to an eizigrant 

Though Josephine was not fully informed re- 
fpecting the ultimate designs of Napoleon, and 
though Napoleon at this time probably had n** 
v^ery definite plans respecting his future actions, 
his interests manifestly required that she should 
sxert all her powers to strengthen the ties of 
those who were already his friends, and to gain 
others to his rising name. Josephine acquired 
great influence over many members of the Di- 
rectory, and this influence she was continually 
exerting for the relief of those who were in dis- 
tress. Many of the proscribed emigrants were 
indebted to her for liberty and the restoration 
Df their forfeited estates. The following letter 
from Josephine to an emigrant, whose fortune, 
and perhaps life, she had saved, exhibits her in- 
tellectual elevation as well as the amiability of 
her heart. 

" Sir, — Your petition, which reached Mal- 
inaison on the 12th, was presented the same 
evening, and by myself, to Citizen Barras. ' 
nave the pleasure to announc*' to you that the 
decision is favorable, and that now, erased from 
the fatal list, you are restored to all the rights of 
a French citizen. But in transmitting a com- 
munication not less agreeable to me than to 
yourself, permit me to enhance its value by re- 



144 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 

Elcmarks of Barras. Good advice offered 



peating to you the exact words with which ii 
was accompanied by the Director. * I have 
usually little to deny you, madame,' said he 
resenting me with a sealed inclosure contain- 
ing the act of restoration, ' and certainly, when 
humanity is concerned, I can have far less ob- 
jection. But pity for misfortune does not ex- 
clude justice, and justice is inseparable from the 
love jf truth. As unfortunate, M. de Sansal 
merits commiseration. As an emigrant, he has 
right to none. I will say more ; had I been dis- 
posed to be severe, there existed a cause for 
stern reprisals on the part of a government to 
whose kindness he replies by insults. Although 
r despise those of such a man, I appreciate them. 
They prove an ungrateful heart and a narrow 
mind. Let him be careful about expressing 
his hatred. All my colleagues are not equally 
indulgent.' 

" Blame only yourself, sir, for the small snaie 
of amenity in these counsels. They are harsby 
perhaps, but useful; and you will do well U 
render them effective. Regard, also, the faith- 
fulness with which I transcribe them as a prool 
cf the deep interest I take in your welfare, and 
r.f my anxiety that the interference of youi 
Criends may be justified by your future conduct ^ 



A i). 179'J.J Josephine AT Malma/son 14f5 



Correspondence intercepted. False charges against Jor-ephine. 

For some time a very constant correspond- 
ence was kept up between Napoleon and Jos*^- 
phine, but after the destruction of the French 
fleet by Lord Nelson in the Bay of Aboukir, and 
when the Mediterranean had become completely 
blocked up by English cruisers, almost ever} 
letter was intercepted. 

For political purposes, there were many who 
wished to destroy the influence which Joso- 
phine had acquired over the mind of her illus- 
trious husband. In the accomplishment of this 
plan, they endeavored, in every way in theii 
power, to excite the jealousy of Napoleon. The 
very efforts which Josephine was making to at- 
tract the most influential men in Paris to her 
saloon were represented to him as indications 
Df levity of character, and of a spirit of unpar- 
donable coquetry. The enemies of Josephine 
had their influential agents in the camp of 
Napoleon, and with malice, never weary, they 
whispered these suspicions into his ear. The 
jealousy of his impassioned nature was strougly 
aroused. In his indignation, he wrote to Jo- 
gephine in terms of great severity, accusing hei 
of " playing the coquette with all the world." 
She was very deeply wounded by these unjust 
Buspioions, and wrote to him a letter in reply, 

K 



146 Josephine. [A.D. 17^)9 

Napoleon's confldeuce impaired Employments of Josephine 

which, for tenderness and delicacjr of sentiment; 
and the expression of conscious innocence, is 
hardly surpassed by any thing which has e\ei 
hepu written. Her letter was intercepted, an-'' 
Napo.eon never saw it. For many months near- 
ly all communication with the army of Egypt 
was cut off by the vigilance of the English. 
There were flying reports ever reaching the eai 
of Josephine of disaster to the army, and even 
of the death of Napoleon. Josephine was at 
times in great distress. She knew not the fate 
of her husband or her son. She knew that, by 
the grossest deception, her husband's confidence 
in her had been greatly impaired, and she feared 
that, should he return, she might never be able 
to regain his affections. Still, she devoted her- 
self with unwearied diligence in watching over 
all his interests, and though her heart was often 
oppressed with anguish, she did every thing in 
her power to retain the aspect of cheerfulness 
dnd of sanguine hope. One of her favorite 
amusements— the favorite amusement of almost 
svery refined mind — was found in the cultiva 
tion of flowers. She passed a portion of ever} 
pleasant day with Hortense among the flower- 
beds, with the hoe, and the watering-pot, and 
the pruning-knife. Hortense, tliough she loved 



A.D.1799.] Josephine at Malmaison. 147 

Bhe viflits the poor. She comforta the afflicted 

the society of her mother, was not fond of these 
employments, and in subsequent life she never 
turned to them for a solace. With Josephine, 
however, this taste remained unchanged through 
life. She was also very fond of leaving the aris- 
tocratic walks of Malmaison, and sauntering 
through the lanes and the rural roads, where she 
could enter the cottages of the peasants, and 
listen to their simple tales of joy and grief. To 
many of these dwellings her visit was as the 
mission of an angel. Her purse was never 
closed against the wants of penury. But that 
which rendered her still more a ministering 
spirit to the poor was that her heart was ever 
open, with its full flood of sympathy, to share 
the grief of their bereavements, and to rejoice 
in their joy. When she sat upon the throne 
of France, and even long after she sank into 
the repose of the grave, the region around Mal- 
maison was full of recitals of her benevolence. 
Aristocratic pride at times affected to look down 
with contempt upon the elevated enjoyments of 
a noble heart. 

Thus occupied in pleading with those in 
oower for those of illustrious birth who had, by 
smigration, forfeited both property and life ; in 
'isiting the sick and the sorrowing in the hum- 



148 JosEPHiNK. [A. D. 1799 



Benevolence of Josephine's heart 



ble cottages around her ; in presiding with 
queenly dignity over the brilliant soirees in hei 
own saloons, where talent and rank were ever 
assembled, and in diffusing the sunlight of hei 
own cheerful heart throughout the whole house- 
hold at Malmaison, Josephine, through weary 
months, awaitei tid ngs from her absent hus« 



A.D.1799.] Wife OP First Consul. 149 

O«plor&ble conditioc of France. The *' pear" now ripo 



Chapter VIII. 

Josephine the W ife of the First 

Consul. 

fTlHE winter of 1799 opened upon France in 
-*- the deepest gloom. The French were wea- 
ry of the horrors o( the Revolution. All busi- 
ness was at a stand. The poor had neither 
employment nor bread. Starvation reigned in 
the capital. The Austrians had again entered 
Italy, and beaten the French at almost every 
point. No tidings were received from Bona- 
parte and the army in Egypt. Rumors of the 
death of Napoleon and of a disastrous state of 
the enterprise fdled the city. The government 
at Paris, composed of men who had em.erged 
from obscurity in the storms of revolution, was 
imbecile and tyrannical in the extreme. Tho 
natim was weary beyond endurance of the strife 
of contendin^^ factions, and ardently dosiied 
some strong ariii to be extended for the restora- 
tion of order, and for the establishment of an 
e/hcient and reputable government. '* Th6 
pf'ar was rij)o=" 



150 Josephine [A.D. 1799 

Evening party. Landing of Napoleon at Freju» 

On the evening of the 9th of November, a 
large an.' ver\ brilliant party was assembled in 
Paris at the house of M. Gohier, president of 
the Directory. The company included all the 
most distinguished persons then resident in the 
metropolis. Josephine, being in Paris at that 
time, was one of the guests. About midnight, 
the gentlemen and ladies were gathering around 
a supper table very sumptuously spread, when 
they were startled by a telegraphic announce- 
ment, communicated to their host, that Bona- 
parte had landed that morning at Frejus, a 
small town upon the Mediterranean shore. The 
announcement created the most profound sen- 
sation. All knew that Napoleon had not re- 
turned at that critical moment without an ob- 
ject. Many were pale with apprehension, con- 
scious that his popularity with the army would 
enable him to wrest from them their ill-gotten 
power. Others were elated with hope. Yet 
universal embarrassment prevailed. None dared 
to express their thoughts. No efforts could re- 
vive the conviviality of the evening, and the 
party soon dispersed. 

Josephine, with the deepest emotion, hast- 
ened homo, immediately summoned her car- 
riage, and, taking with her Hortense and lioui* 



A.D.1799.] Wife of First Consul. 151 



loaepliicii hastens to meet him. They cross each cJher'a path 

B()na])arte, set out, withoui allowing an houi 
foi repose, to meet her husband. She was very 
anxious to have an interview with him befoie 
her enemies shouM have an opportunity to fil! 
his mind with new accusations against her 
The most direct route from Paris to Frejus 
passes through the city of Lyons. There is 
another and more retired route, not frequently 
traveled, but which Napoleon, for some un- 
known reason, took. It was a long journey of 
weary, weary leagues, over hills and plains. Jo- 
sephine alighted not for refreshment or slum- 
ber, but with fresh relays of horses, night and 
day, pressed on to meet her spouse. When she 
arrived at Lyons, to her utter consternation, she 
heaiJ* that Napoleon had taken the other route, 
and, some forty-eight hours before, had passed 
her on the way to Paris. No words can describe 
the anguish which these tidings caused her. Iler 
husband would arrive in Paris and find her ab- 
sent. Ho would immediately be surrounded 
by those who would try to feed his jealousy. 
Two or three days must elapse ere she couii 
possibly retrace her steps. Napoleon arrived in 
Paris the 10th of November. It was not until 
nearly midnight of the 13th that Josephine re- 
turned Worn out with the fatiiruet^ of travel- 



i52 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 

Josephine's enemies succeed in rousing the anger of Napoleon. 



ing, of anxiety, and of watching, she drove with 
a heavy heart to their house in the Rue Chan- 
toieine 

The enemies whom Josephine had most tc 
fear were the brothers and the sisters-in-law of 
Napoleon. They were entirely dependent upon 
their illustrious brother for their own advance- 
ment in life, and were exceedingly jealous of 
the influence which Josephine had exerted over 
his mind. They feared that she would gain an 
exclusive empire where they wished also tc 
reign. Taking advantage of Josephine's ab- 
sence, they had succeeded in rousing Napoleon's 
indignation to the highest pitch. They accused 
her of levity, of extravagance, of forgetfulness 
of him, and of ever playing the coquette with 
all the debauchees of Paris. Napoleon, stimu- 
lated by that pride which led the Roman em- 
peror to say, " Caesar's wife must not be sus- 
pected," threatened loudly " divorce-— open and 
public divorce." Said one maliciously to him, 
*' She will appear before you with all her fasci 
nations, explain matters ; you will forgive all, 
and tranquillity will be restored." " Never ! 
never I" exclaimed the irritated general, strid- 
ing to and fro through the room. " I forgive ! 
never ! You know me. Were T not sure o/ 



Ai).1799.] Wife of Firsi Consdl. 15r' 

UfHstiQg of Josephine and Eugene. She is repulsed by Na])oleoa 



my resolution, I would pluck out this lu;art and 
cast it into the fire." 

Such was the mood of mind in which Napo- 
iton was prepared to receive Josephine, after an 
absence of eighteen months. Josephine and 
llortense alighted in the court-yard, and were 
innnediately enfolded in the embraces of Eu- 
gene, who was anxiously awaiting their arrival. 
With trembling steps and a throbbing heart, 
Josephine, accompanied by her son and daugh- 
ter, ascended the stairs to a small circular fam- 
ily room where they expected to find Napoleon. 
He vras there with his brother Joseph. As his 
wife and her children entered the room, Napo- 
leon glanced sternly at them, and instantly saic 
to Josephine, in a severe and commanding tone, 
almost before she had crossed the threshold, 

" Madame ! it is my wish that you retire im- 
mediately to Malmaison." 

Josephine came near falling lifeless upon the 
floor. She was caught in the arms of Eugene. 
wl J, in the most profound grief, had kept nca? 
the side of his revered and beloved mother, lit 
»uppor*i^Al her fainting steps, as, sobbing with 
anguish, she silently retired to her apartment. 
Napoleon, greatly agitated, traversed the room 
with hasty strides. The sight of Jipcphini' had 



154 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 

Josepbine'i prompt obedience. Napoleon relenta 

rekindled all his love, and he >vas struggling 
with desperate efforts to cherish his sense of 
wrong, and to fortify himself against any return 
©f clemency. 

In a few moments, Josephine and Hortense, 
with Eugene, were heard descending the stairs 
to leave the house. It was midnight. For a 
week Josephine had lived in her carriage almost 
without food or sleep. Nothing but intensity 
of excitement had prevented her from sinking 
down in utter weariness and exhaustion. It 
was a drive of thirty miles to Malmaison. Na- 
poleon was not prepared for such prompt obe- 
dience. Even his stern heart could not resist 
its instinctive pleadings for his wife and her 
daughter. He hastened from his room, and, 
though his pride would not allow him directly 
to urge Josephine to remain, he insisted upon 
Eugene's returning, and urged it in such a way 
that he came back, leading with him his mother 
ind his sister. Napoleon, however, addressed 
not a word to either of them. Josephine threw 
aerself upon a couch in her apartment, and Na^ 
poleon, in gloomy silence, entered his cabinet 
Two days of wretchedness passed away, during 
which no intercourse took place between th^ 
s^tranged parties. But the angei of the bus- 



A.D 17yy I vViFE OF First Consul. 151 



The reconcilifition. Napoleon vanquished 
* . 

band was gradually subsiding. Tiove for Jose- 
phine was slowly gaining strength in his heart 
On the third day, his pride and passion were 
sufficiently subdued to allow hinri to enter the 
apartment where Josephine and Hortense had 
kept themselves secluded, awaiting his pleasure. 
Josephine was seated at a toilet table, vith her 
face buried in her hands, and absorbed in the 
profoundest grief. On the table were exposed 
the letters which she had received from Napo- 
leon during his absence, and which she had ev- 
idently been reading. Hortense was standing 
silently and pensively in an alcove by the win- 
dow, half concealed by the curtain. Napoleon 
advanced with an irresolute step, hesitated for 
a moment, and then said, "Josephine!" She 
started up at the sound of that well-known 
voice, and, her beautiful countenance all suf- 
fused with tears, mournfully exclaimed, " Mon 
ami,''' in that peculiar tone, so pathetic, so mu 
sical, which ever thrilled upon the heart of Na 
coJeon. '^ My friend" was the term of endear 
ment with which she invariably addressed .ei 
husband. Napoleon was vanquished. He ex- 
tended his hand to his deeply-wronged wife. 
She threw herself into his arms, pillowed her 
aching head upon his bosom, and in the fuUnesa 



158 Josephine. [AD.1799 

Reception or Napoleon on his return to France. 

of blended joy and anguish wept convulsively 
Ar explanation of several hours ensued. Everj 
shade of suspicion was obliterated from his mind 
He received Josephine again to his entire con* 
fidence, and this confidence was never again in- 
terrupted. 

When Napoleon landed at Frejus, he was re- 
ceived with the most enthusiastic demonstra- 
tion of delight. There was a universal im- 
pression that the hero of Italy, the conqueror 
of Egypt, had returned thus unexpectedly to 
France for the accomplishment of some mag- 
aificent enterprise ; yet no one knew what to 
anticipate. The moment the frigate dropped 
anchor in the bay, and it was announced that 
Napoleon was on board, thousands surrounded 
the vessel in boats, and the air was filled with 
enthusiastic acclamations. His journey to Paris 
was one continued scene of triumph. Crowds 
gathered around him at every stopping-place, 
intoxicated with joy. The bells rang theii 
merriest peals ; the booming of cannon echoed 
along the hill sides, and brilliant bonfires by 
night blazed upon every eminence. Upon his 
arrival in Paris, the soldiers, recognizing their 
leader in so many brilliant victories, greeted 
him with indescribable enthusiasm, and criet 



A.D.17yy.J Wife of First Consul. 159 



He overthrows the Directory. He is sustained by the people 

of " Vive Bonaparte I" resounded through thp 
metropolis. His v^aloon, ever thronged with 
generals and statesmen, and all who were most 
illustrious in intellect and rank, resembled the 
tx^urt of a monarch. Even the most prominent 
izien in the Directory, disgusted with the prog- 
ress of measures which they could not control, 
urged him to grasp the reins of power, assuring 
him that there was no hope for France but in 
his strong arm. In less than four weeks from 
his arrival in Paris, the execrated government 
was overturned. Napoleon, Sieyes, and Ducos 
were appointed consuls, and twenty-five mem- 
bers were appointed from each of the councils 
to unite with the consuls in forming a new Con- 
stitution. One unanimous voice of approval 
rose from all parts of France in view of this 
change. No political movement could take 
place more strongly confirmed by the popular 
will. Napoleon hastened from the scenes of 
peril and agitation through which he had passed 
in the accomplishment of this change, that he 
Tiight be the first to announce to Josephine the 
political victory he had achieved. 

During the perilous day, when, in the midst 
of outcries, daggers, and drawn swords, he had 
been contending with the Council of the Five 



:60 Josephine. [A.D.1799 

Psanful suspense of Josephine. Napoleon relieves Jl 

tlundred, he could find not even one momeni 
to dispatch a note from St. Cloud to his wifo. 
The previous day he had kept her constantly 
informed of the progress of events. Joseph ne 
emained throughout the whole of the 19th of 
f^ovember, from morning until evening, without 
sight or tidings of her husband. She knew that, 
m the' fierce strife of parties in France, there 
was no safety for life ; and when the darkness 
of night settled down around her, and still no 
word from her Napoleon, her anxiety amounted 
almost to distraction. The rumbling of every 
carriage upon the pavement— every noise in the 
streets aroused her hopes or her fears. Worn 
out with anxiety, at midnight she threw herself 
upon her bed, but not to sleep. Several weary 
hours of suspense lingered slowly along, when, 
at four o'clock in the morning, she heard the 
well-known footsteps of her husband upon the 
stairs. 

She sprang to meet him. He fondly clasped 
her in his arms, and assured her that he had 
uot spoken to a single individual since he hati 
taken the oaths of office, that the voice of hia 
Josephine might be the firsl; to congratulate him 
apon his virtual accession to the empire of 
Prance. An animated conversation ensued, 



A.D. 1800.J Wife of First Consul. 161 

Bis usurping ambition. Remark of the Abb6 Si^yes 

and then Napoleon, throwing himself upon his 
couch for a few moments' repose, gayly said, 
" Good night, my Josephine I to-morrow we 
sleep in the Luxembourg." 

The next day the three consuls met in Paris. 
f Jis colleagues, however, immediately perceived 
that the towering ambition of Napoleon would 
brook no rival. He showed them the absurdity 
of their plans, and compelled them to assent to 
the superior wisdom of his own. The untiring 
vigor of His mind, the boldness and energy of 
his thoughts, and his intuitive and almost mi- 
raculous familiarity with every branch of polit- 
ical science, overawed his associates, and the 
whole power passed, with hardly the slightest 
resistance, into his own hands. Immediately 
after their first interview, the Abbe Sieyes, who 
combined great weakness with extensive knowl- 
edge, remarked to Talleyrand and others, " Gen- 
tlemen, I perceive that we have got a master 
Bonaparte can do and will do every thing him^ 
pelf. But," he continued, after a pause, "it is 
better to submit than to protract dissensions 
forever." 

In this most astonishing revolution, thus sud 
denly accomplished, and without the shedding 
*f a drop of blood, Napoleon was muck indebted 

L 



t«»f2 Josephine. [A.D 1800 

Josephine secures friends to Napoleon. Residence at the Luxembourg. 

to "le inflaence which his wife had exerted in 
his behalf during his absence in Egypt. The 
dinners she had given, the guests the ha<l en- 
tertained in her saloons evening after evening, 
com sting of the most distinguished scholars, 
and statesmen, and generals in the metropolis, 
had contributed greatly to the popularity of her 
husbai d, and had surrounded him with devoted 
friends. Napoleon ever acknowledged his obli- 
gations to Josephine for the essential service 
she had thus rendered him. 

The ntTt morning Napoleon and Josephine 
removed fi >m their elegant yet comparatively 
plebeian residence in the Rue Chantereine to 
the palace of the Luxembourg. This, however, 
was but the stepping-stone to the Tuillerios, 
the world-renowned abode of the monarchs of 
France. The) remained for two months at the 
Luxembourg. The energies of Napoleon were 
employed every moment in promoting changes 
in the internal affairs of France, which ever 
his bitterest enemies admit were marked with 
the most eminent wisdom and benevolence. 
During the two months of their residence ai 
the Luxembourg, no domestic event of import- 
ance occurred, except the marriage nf Murai 
with Caroline, the sister of Napoleon. Carolina 



A.D. 1800.J Wife OF First Consul. 163 

Marriage of Murat and Caroline. Tne Tuillenes refurnished 

was exceedingly beautiful. Murat was one of 
the favorite aids of Bonapa/te. Their nuptials 
were celebrated with great splendor, and the gay 
Parisians began again to be amused with some- 
thing like the glitter of royalty. 

Each day Napoleon became more popular 
and his power more firmly established. Soon 
all France was prepared to see the first consul 
take up his residence in the ancient apartments 
of the kings of France. The Tuilleries had 
been sacked again and again by the mob. The 
gorgeous furniture, the rich paintings, and all 
the voluptuous elegance which the wealth of 
Louis XIV. could create, had been thrown into 
the court-yard and consumed by the infuriated 
populace. Royalty itself had been pursued and 
ir suited in its most sacred retreats. 

By slow and cautious advances, Napoleon 
refurnished these magnificent saloons. The 
emblems of Jacobin misrule were silently ef 
faced. Statues of Brutus and Washington, of 
Demosthenes, and of others renowned for illus- 
trious deeds, were placed in the vacant niches, 
and the Tuilleries again appeared resplendent 
as in the days of pristine pride and power. 

On the morning of the 19th of February, 
1800^ all Paris was in commotion to witness 



164 Josephine. [A D. 1800 



Napoleon and Josephine take up their residence in the Tuilleries. 

the transfer of the embryo court of the first 
Donsul and his colleagues from the Luxembourg 
to the Tuilleries. Already the colleagues of 
Napoleon had become so entirely eclipsed by 
the superior brilliance of their imperious asso- 
ciate that their names were almost forgotten 
The royal apartments were prepared for Napo- 
leon, while those in the Pavilion of Flora were 
assigned to the two other consuls. The three 
consuls entered a magnificent carriage, drawn 
by six white horses. A gorgeous train of offi- 
cers, with six thousand picked troops in the 
richest uniform, surrounded the cortege. Many 
of the long-abolished usages of royalty were 
renewed upon that day. Twenty thousand 
soldiers, in most imposing militiry array, were 
drawn up before the palace. The moment the 
carriage appeared, the very heavens seemed 
rent with their cries, '* Vive le premier consul !" 
The two associate consuls were ciphers. They 
sat at his side as pages to embellish his triumph, 
This day placed Napoleon in reality upon the 
throne of France, and Josephine that evening 
moved, a queen, in the apartments hallowed 
by the beauty and the sufferings of Maria An- 
toinette. 

The suite of rooms appropriated to the wifa 



A.D. 1800.] Wife OF First Consul. 16c 

Apartments of Josephine. Her dress. Her serial triumph 

of the first consul consisted of two masfnificenl 
saloons, with private apartments adjoining. No 
French monarch ever sauntered throus^h a more 
dazzling scene than that which graced the draw- 
ing-rooms of Josephine on this occasion. Em- 
bassadors from nearly all the courts of Europe 
were present. The army contributed its ut- 
most display of rank and military pomp to em- 
bellish the triumph of its most successful gen- 
eral. And the metropolis contributed all that 
it still retained of brilliance in ancestral renown 
or in intellectual achievement. 

When Josephine entered the gorgeously-illu- 
minated apartments of the palace, leaning upon 
the arm of Talleyrand, and dressed in the ele- 
gance of the most perfect simplicity, a murmur 
of admiration arose from the whole assembly. 
She \\'as attired in a robe of, white muslin. Her 
hair fell in graceful ringlets upon her neck and 
shoulders. A necklace of pearls of great value 
completed her costume. The queenly elegance 
of her figure, the inimitaole grace of her move- 
ments, the peculiar conversational tact ;she post 
sessed, and the melody of a voice which, once 
heard, never was forgoCten, gave to Josephine, 
on this eventful eveni/ ^, a social triumph cor. 
responding with tb?! A^hich Napoleon had re- 



166 Josephine. [A.D. ISOO 

Jf')sephine th3 Queen of Hearts. Her varied accomplishments. 

ceived during the day. She entered the roonrj^ 
to welcome her guests before her husband. A> 
she made the tour of the apartments, supporte^J 
Dy the minister, whose commanding figure tow 
ored above all the rest, she was first introduced 
to the foreign embassadors, and then to others 
of distinguished name and note. " Napoleon 
wins battles, but Josephine wins hearts." This 
was the all-appropriate theater for the triumph 
of Josephine. Here she was entirely at home. 
Instinct taught her every thing that was grace- 
ful and. pleasing. Etiquette, that stern tyrant 
BO necessary for the control of common minds, 
was compelled to bow in subjection to Jose- 
phine, for her actions became a higher law. In 
the exuberance of benevolent joy, she floated 
through this brilliant scene, wherever she ap 
peared exciting admiration, though she sought 
only to diffuse enjoyment. 

Josephine was now about thirty-three yeair 
of age, and while in personal charms she re 
tained all the fascination of more youthful yeaig, 
her mind, elevated and ennobled by reverses an J 
sufferings most magnanimously borne, and cu] 
tivatel by the daily exercise of its rich endow 
ments, enabled her to pass from the circles of 
fashion to the circles of science, from those whfi 



A.D.1800.J Wife of First Consul. 167 

Bymmctry of her form. Attractiveness of her conversatioti 

thought only of the accomplishments of the per- 
son to those who dwelt in the loftiest regions 
of the intellect, and to be equally admired jy 
both. 

Her figure appears to have been molded into 
the absolute perfection of the female frame, nei- 
ther too large for the utmost delicacy of femi- 
nine beauty, nor too small for queenly dignity. 
The exquisite symmetry of her form and the 
elasticity of her step gave an etherial aspect to 
her movements. Her features, of Grecian out- 
line, were finely modeled, and through them aU 
the varying emotions of the soul were unceas- 
ingly beaming. No one probably ever possessed 
in a higher degree this resistless charm of femi- 
nine loveliness. Her eyes were of a deep blue, 
and possessed a winning tenderness of expres- 
sion when reposing upon those she loved w^hich 
could not be resisted. Napoleon, even when 
most agitated by the conflicts of his stormy life, 
was speedily subdued by the tranquilizing pow- 
er of her looks of love. But the tone and mod- 
ulations of her voice in conversation constituted 
the most remarkable attraction of this most at- 
tractive woman. No one could listen to hei 
Bparkling, flowing, musical words without feel- 
ing the fascination of their strange melody 



168 Josephine [A.U 1800 

Sweetness of Josephine's voice. Attractions of Malmaison 

" The first applauses of the French people," 
says Napoleon, " fell upon m}? ear sweet as the 
voice of Josephine." 

The rural charms of Malmaison, hcwever, 
exerted a more powerful sway over both the first 
consul and his companion than the more splen- 
did attractions of the Tuilleries. The Revolu- 
tionary government had abolished the Sabbath, 
and appointed every tenth day for rest and rec- 
reation. Napoleon and Josephine habitually 
spent this day at Malmaison. There, in the 
retirement of green fields and luxuriant groves 
surrounded by those scenes of nature which ha J 
peculiar charms for them both, they found th& 1 
quiet happiness which is in vain sought amid 
the turmoil of the camp or the splendor of tht 
court. Josephine, in particular, here found her 
most serene and joyous hours. She regretted 
the high ambition of her husband, while, at the 
same time, she felt a wife's pride and gratifica> 
tion in view of the honors which were so prO" 
fusely heaped upon him. It delighted her Uf 
see him here lay aside the cares of state, an-i 
enjoy with her the unostentatious pleasures of 
the flower-garden and the farm -yard. And 
when the hour came for them to return from 
their rural villa to their city palace, Napol<loD 



\.D. 1800.] Wife of First Consul. 169 

The dangers of greatness. Josephine's anxiety and care 

often said, with a sigh, " Now it is necessary 
for us to go and put on again the yoke of mis- 
ery." 

The dangers of greatness soon began to hov. 
31 around the path of the first consul. Jose- 
phine was continually alarmed with rumors of 
conspiracies and plots of assassination. The 
utter indifference of Napoleon to all such perils, 
and his entire disregard of all precautionary 
measures, only increased the anxiety of his wife. 
The road leading from Paris to Malmaison 
wound through a wild district, then but thinly 
inhabited, and w^hich presented many facilities 
for deeds of violence. Whenever Napoleon was 
about to traverse this road, Josephine sent the 
servants of their private establishment to scru- 
tinize all its lurking-places where any foea 
might be concealed. Napoleon, though grati- 
fied by this kind care, often amused and good- 
naturedly teased Josephine with most ludicrou? 
accounts of the perils and hair-breadth escape* 
which he had encountered. She also had largo 
and powerful dogs trained to guard the groun'^if 
of Malmaison from any intrusion by night. 

On the evening of the day wdien Napoleon 
made his entry into the Tuilleries, he remarked 
to Bourrienne, " It is not enough to be in the 



£70 Josephine. [A.D. 18(K» 



Remark of Napoleon to Bourrienne. 



Tuilleries, we must take measures to remain 
there. Who has not inhabited this palace ? It 
has been the abode of robbers— of the Conven' 
tion. There is your brother's house, from which, 
eight years ago, we saw the good Louis XVI. 
besieged in the Tuilleries and carried off into 
captivity. But you need not fear a repetition 
of the scene Let them attempt it with me if 
they dare." To all the cautions of his anxioua 
wife respecting assassination, he ev^-r quietly 
rephed, " My dear Josephine, the} dare not 
doit." 



A..D. 1800.] Chakacter developed. 171 

Second Italian campaign. Its brilliant results 



Chapter IX. 

Developments of Character. 

r^URING Napoleon's absence in Egypt the 
^-^ Austrians had again invaded Italy. The 
French troops had been beaten in many bat- 
tles, and driven from vast extents of territory, 
over which Napoleon had caused the flag of the 
Republic to float in triumph. The first consul 
having, with almost superhuman energy, ar- 
ranged the internal afiairs of his government, 
now turned his thoughts toward the defeated 
armies of France, which had been driven back 
into the fastnesses of the Alps. '' I must go," 
said he, " my dear Josephine. But I will not 
forget you, and I will not be absent long." He 
bade adieu to his wife at the Tuilleries on the 
7th of May, 1800. At midnight of the 2d of 
July he returned, having been absent less than 
twr months. In that brief period he drove the 
Aus^rians from all their strongholds, regained 
Italy, and by a campaign more brilliant than 
any other which history has ever recorded, add- 
ed immeasurably to his own moral powei. 
These astonishing victories excited the Paris- 



172 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 

Napoleon's desire to leave a name. A faithful correspondent 

ians to a delirium of joy. Night after night the 
streets were illuminated, and whenever Napo- 
leon appeared, crowds thronged him, filling the 
feir with their acclamations. These triumphs, 
however, instead of satisfying Napoleon, did but 
add fuel to his all-absorbing ambition. " A few 
more great events," said he, " like those of this 
campaign, and I may really descend to posteri- 
ty. But still it is little enough. I have con- 
quered, it is true, in less than two years, Cairo, 
Paris, Milan. But, were I to die to-morrow, 
half a page of general history would, after ten 
centuries, be all that would be devoted to my 
exploits." 

During his absence Josephine passed her 
time at Malmaison. And it surely is indica- 
tive not only of the depth of Napoleon's love for 
Josephine, but also of his appreciation of those 
delicate attentions which could touch the heart 
of a loving wife, that in this busiest of cam 
paigns, in which, by day and by night, he was 
upon the horse's back, with hardly one moment 
allowed for refreshment or repose, rarely did a 
single day pass in which he did not transmit 
some tokea of affection to Malmaison. Jose- 
phine daily watched, with the most intense in- 
terest thf? arrival of the courier with the brief 



4..D. 1800] Character developed. 173 

Delicate attentions of Nap )leon to Josephine. ller pastimea. 

and almost illegible note from her husband. 
Sometimes the blurred and blotted lines were 
hastily written upon horseback, with the pom- 
mel of his saddle for his writing-desk. Some- 
times they were written, at his dictation, by 
his secretary, upon a drum-head, on the field 
of carnage, when the mangled bodies of the dy- 
ing and the dead were strewed all around him, 
and the thunders of the retreatinof battle were 
still echoing over the plains. These delicate 
attentions to his wife exhibit a noble trait in 
the character of Napoleon. And she must have 
been indeed a noble woman who could have in- 
spired such a mind with esteem and tenderness 
80 profound. 

Josephine employed much of her time in su- 
perintending those improvements which she 
thought would please her husband on his re- 
turn ; creating for him pleasant little surprises, 
as she sliould guide his steps to the picturesque 
walk newly opened, to the rustic bridge span 
aing the stream, to the rural pavilion, where, 
in the evening twilight, they could commune. 
She often rode on horseback with Hortense, 
who was peculiarly fond of all those pleasures 
which had the concomitants of graceful display 

After Napoleon's triumphant return from It 



174 aosEPHiNE. [A.D. 1800 

Retirement at Malmaison. Private theatricals 

aly, the visits to Malmaison were more frequent 
than ever before. Napoleon and Josephine oft- 
en spent several days there ; and in after years 
they frequently spoke of these hours as the 
pleasantest they had passed in life. The agree- 
able retirement of Malmaison was, however, 
changed into enjoyment more public and social 
by the crowds of visitors with which its saloons 
and parks were filled. Josephine received her 
guests vnth republican simplicity, united with 
the utmost elegance. Her reception-room was 
continually thronged with the most distinguish- 
ed officers of the government, renowned gener- 
als, and all the men most illustrious for birth 
and talent the metropolis contained. 

The circle assembled here was, indeed, a 
happy one. A peculiar bond of union existed 
throughout the whole household, for Napoleon, 
us well as Josephine, secured the most devoted 
attachment of all the servants. One of their fa 
vorite amusements was family theatricals. Eu- 
gene and Hortense took an active part in these 
nerformances, in which both had talents to excel 

But the favorite and most characteristic 
imusement at Malmaison was the game of 
'^Prisoners," a ccmmon game among the school- 
bov» of T^rance, though c(mparatively little 



A D. ISOO.] Character developed 175 

The game of" Prisoners." The mode of playing it 

known in this country. The company is divi- 
ded into two parties. Those who are appoint- 
ed leaders choose each their respective sides 
Bounds are assigned to each party, and a par- 
ticular point as a fortress. If any one is caught 
away from the fortress by one who left his own 
station after the captive left the hostile fort, he 
is a prisoner, and must remain at the appoint- 
ed prison until rescued. For instance, Hor- 
tense leaves her fortress, and cautiously invades 
the territory of the enemy. Josephine darts 
after her, and eagerly pursues her over the 
greensward. Eugene, who remains at his for- 
tress until after Josephine left hers, bounds 
after his mother. It is now her turn to flee. 
But others of her party, who have remained 
under the protection of their fortress, rush to her 
rescue. Eugene, however, succeeds in touch- 
mg his mother before they reach him, and leads 
her off in triumph a prisoner. A tree, perhaps, 
at a little distance, is her prison. Here she must 
remain until rescued by a touch from one of 
her own party. But if the one who is rushing 
to her rescue is touched by one of the other 
party who left his fortress an instant later, an- 
7ther captive is taken to stand by her side. 
In this mimicry of war Napoleon always 1& 



176 Josephine. [A.D.1800 

Napoleon's favorite amusement. He is no misanthrope 

lighted to engage. After dinner, upon the 
lawn at Malmaison, the most distinguished 
gentlemen and ladies, not of France onl}^, but 
of all Europe, were often actively and most 
nurth fully engaged in this sport. Kings, and 
queens, and princes of the blood royal were 
often seen upon the lawn at Malmaison pursu- 
ing and pursued. Napoleon and Josephine, and 
most of the friends who surrounded them, were 
in the vigor of athletic youth, and, in entire 
abandonment to the frolic of the hour, the air 
resounded with their shouts. It was observed 
that Napoleon was ever anxious to choose Jo- 
sephine as the first on his side, and he seemed 
nervously excited, if she was taken prisoner, 
until she was rescued. He was a poor runner, 
and often fell, roUing over headlong upon the 
grass, while he and all his associates were con- 
vulsed with laughter. When there was no spe- 
cial engagement demanding attention, this sport 
often continued for hours. Napoleon was often 
taken captive. But when Josephine was im- 
prisoned, he \^ as incessantly clapping his hands, 
and shouting, "A rescue! a rescue I" till she 
was released. A gloomy misanthrope, wrapped 
in self, could not have enjoyed these scenes of 
innocent hilarity 



A..D.i800.] Character de\ eloped. 177 



Josephine's expansive benevolence. 



But the life of Josephine was not devoted to 
amusement. While she entered with warmth 
into these sports, being the soul of every festive 
party, her heart was consecrated to the promo- 
tion of happiness in every way in her power. 
When a child, playing with the little negresses 
of Martinique, she was adored as their queen. 
When in penury, crossing the Atlantic, by kind 
sympathy manifested for the sick and the sor- 
rowful, she won the hearts of the seamen. When 
a prisoner, under sentence of death, by her 
cheerfulness, her forgetful ness of self, and he* 
hourly deeds of delicate attention to others, she 
became an object of universal love in those cells 
of despair. When prosperity again dawned 
upon her, and she was in the enjoyment of an 
ample competence, every cottage in the vicinity 
of Malmaison testified to her benevolence. And 
now, when plao«id in a position of power, all her 
mfluence was exerted to relieve the misfortunes 
of those illustrious men whom the storms of 
rt)vclution had driven from their homes and from 
Prance. She never forgot the unfortunate, but 
d<}voted a considerable portion of her income 
fo the relief of the emigrants. She was at 
times accused of extravasrance. Her nature 
was generous in the extreme, and the profusion 

M 



178 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 

Josephine's unwearied exertions in behalf of the emigrants. 

of her expenditures was an index of her expan- 
sive benevolence. 

Napoleon, soon after he became first consul, 
published a decree, inviting the emigrants f/a 
return, and did what he could to restore to thoni 
their confiscated estates. There were, howeverj 
necessarily exceptions from the general act of 
amnesty. Cases were continually arising of 
peculiar perplexity and hardship, where widow? 
and orphans, reduced from opulence to penury, 
sought lost property, which, during the tumult 
of the times, had become involved in inextrica- 
ble embarrassments. All such persons made 
application to Josephine. She ever found time 
to listen to their tales of sorrow, to speak words 
of sympathy, and, with great soundness of judg- 
ment, to render them all the aid in her power 
'* Josephine," said Napoleon, in reference to 
these her applications for the unfortunate, " will 
not take a refusal. But, it must be confessed, 
she rarely undertakes a case which has not pro 
priety, at least, on its side." The Jacobin laws 
h'ld fallen with fearful severity upon all the 
members of the ancient aristocracy and all the 
friends of royalty. The cause of these victims 
of anarchy Josephine was ever ready to espouse 

A noble family by the name of Decrest had 



A.D. IbOO.J Character develoi'el 179 

The Marquis of Decrest Accidental death yf hi« boo 

bten indebted to the interposition of the wife of 
the first consul for their permission to return t« 
France. As nearly all their property had disap- 
peared during their exile, Josephine continu'xi 
to befriend them with her influence and hei 
purse. On the evening of a festival day, a 
grand display of fire-works was exhibited on 
i\ e banks of the Seine. A rocket, misdirected, 
struck a son of the marquis on the breast, and 
instantly killed him. The young man, who 
was on the eve of his marriage to the daughter 
of an ancient friend, was an officer of great 
promise, and the hope of the declining family 
His death was a terrible calamity, as well as a 
most adiictive bereavement. The father aban- 
doned himself to all the delirium of inconsolable 
grief, and was so utterly lost in the depths of 
despair, that it was feared his mind would nev- 
er again recover its tone. The Duke of Or- 
leans was grand-uncle of the young man who 
was killed, and Madame Montesson, the moth* 
er of Louis Philippe, sent for her distressed rel* 
atives that she might administer to their consfv 
lation All her endeavors, however, were en 
tirely unavailing. 

In the midst of this aflflictive scene, Josephine 
enter*^ the saloon of Madame INIontesson, Hei 



ISO Josephine. [A.D. 1800 

JoBepliine arrests the grief of Decrest Her tendemesft 



own heart taught her that in such a grief a? 
this words were valueless. Silently she took 
by the hand the eldest daughter, a beautiful 
girl, whose loveliness plead loudly for a father's 
care, and in the other arm she took their infant 
child of fifteen months, and, with her own 
cheeks bathed in tears, she kneeled before the 
stricken mourner. He raised his eyes and saw 
Josephine, the wife of the first consul, kneeling 
before him, and imploringly presenting his two 
children. He was at first astonished at the 
sight. Then, bursting into tears, he exclaimed, 
'' Yes ! I have much for which I am yet bound 
to live. These children have claims upon me^ 
and I must no longer yield to despair." A lady 
who was present on this occasion says, " I wit- 
(i^ssed this scene, and shall never forget it. 
The wife of the first consul expressed, in lan- 
guage which I will not attempt to imitate, all 
that tenderness which the maternal bosom alone 
knows. She was the very image of a minis^ 
tering angel, for the touching charm of her 
voice and look pertained more to heaven than 
to earth." Joaephine had herself seen days as 
dark as could lower over a mortal's path. Love 
for her children was then the only tie which 
bound her to life. In those days of anguish shfl 



A.D 1800.] Character developed. 181 

rhe Infernal Machine. Its power. Horteue wounded 



.earned the only appeal whichj under these cir- 
cumstances, could touch a despairing father's 
heart. 

Several conspiracies were formed about this 
lime against the life of the first consul. That 
of the Infernal Machine was one of the most 
desperate, reckless, and atrocious which histo "y 
has recorded. On the evening of December 24, 
1800, Napoleon was going to the opera. Three 
gentlemen were with him in his carriage. Jo- 
sephine, with Hortense and one or two others, 
followed in another carriage. In passing from 
the Tuilleries to the theater, it was necessary 
to pass through the narrow street St. Nicaire. 
A cart, apparently by accident overturned, ob- 
structed the passage. The coachman, howev- 
er, who was driving his horses very rapidly, 
crowded his way by. He had barely pasted 
the cart when a terrific explosion took place, 
which was heard all over Paris. Eight person^ 
were instantly killed and more than sixt} 
wounded. Some of the houses in the vicinit) 
were nearly blown down. The windows of bclh 
the carrias^es were shattered, and Hortense waj* 
slightly wounded by the broken glass. Napo- 
leon drove on to the opera, where he found the 
audie.nce in the utm(/st consternation, for thf 



182 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 



Hnpoleon pmcceds to the opera. Narrow tecape of Josephine 

ex])losion had shaken the whole city. He en- 
tered with a countenance as perf*ictly calm and 
antroubled as if nothing unusual had occurred. 
Every eye was fixed upon him. As soon as it 
was perceived that his person was safe, thun< 
ders of applause shook the walls of the Iheate^. 
On every side Napoleon was greeted with the 
m )st devoted expressions of attachment. Soon 
Josephine came in, pale and trembling, and, 
after remaining half an hour, they both retired 
to the Tuilleries. Napoleon found the palace 
crowded with all the public functionaries of 
Paris, who had assembled to congratulate him 
upon his escape. 

The life of Josephine was saved on this oc- 
casion by apparently the merest accident. She 
had recently received a magnificent shawl, a 
present from Constantinople, and was preparing 
to wear it that evening for the first time. Na- 
poleon, however, in playful criticism, condemned 
the shawl, remarking upon its pattern and its 
color, and commending one which he dcenuu'. 
far more beautiful. "You are a bold man,*' 
said Josephine, smiling, " in venturing to criti 
cise my toilette. I shall take my revenge in 
gi\ing you a lesson how to attack a redoubt 
However," she continued, turning to one of her 



"V.D. 1800.] Character Developed. 183 

■rreachery of the Royalists. FoncMi 

ftttcndants, " bring me the general's favorite 
I will wear that." A delav of a few momenta 
was caused in exchanging the shawls. In the 
.Tiean time, Napoleon, with his friends, entered 
his carriage and drove on. Josephine soon fol- 
lowed. She had but just entered the street 
when the explosion took place. Had she fol- 
lowed, as usual, directly behind Napoleon, her 
death would have been almost inevitable. 

It was subsequently ascertained, greatly tc 
»he surprise of Napoleon and of all Europe, that 
*.he Royalists were the agents in this conspiracy. 
Napoleon had been their benefactor, and while 
he knew it to be impossible to replace the Bour- 
bons upon the throne of France, he did every 
thing in his power to mitigate the misfortunes 
which Jacobin violence had inflicted upon their 
friends. The first consul made no disguise of 
his utter detestation of the Jacobins, and of their 
reign of merciless tyranny. He consequently 
supposed that they were the authors of the atro- 
cious crime. The real authors of the conspiracy 
were, however, soon discovered. Fouche, whom 
Bonaparte disliked exceedingly for his inhuman 
deeds during the Revolution, was the Minister 
of Police. Upon him mainly devolved the trial 
and the punishment of the accused. Josephine 



184 Josephine. [A.D.1800 

Josejjhine's letter tc the Minister of Police. 



immediately wrote a letter to Fouche, mosi 
strikingly indicative of the benevolence of hei 
noble heart, and of that strength of mind whicb 
sould understand that the claims of justice musi 
.lot pass unheeded. 

" Citizen-Minister, — While I yet tremble a1 
the frightful event which has just occurred, I 
am disquieted and distressed through fear of the 
punishment necessarily to be inflicted on the 
guilty, who belong, it is said, to families with 
whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. I 
shall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and dis- 
consolate wives ; and my heart will be broken 
through my inability to obtain all the mercy for 
which I would plead. 

" I know that the clemency of the first con- 
sul is great, his attachment to me extreme ; but 
the crime is too dreadful that terrible example? 
should not be necessary. The chief of the gov 
ernment has not been alone exposed ; and it i^ 
that which will render him severe — inflexible 
I conjure you, therefore, to do all in your powei 
to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. Do 
not detect all those persons who may have been 
accomplices in these odious transactions. Lbt 
not France, so long overwhelmed in consterna 
tion by public executions, groan anew beneath 



A..D. 1800.] Character Developed 185 



She pleads for lenity in behalf of tiie guilty. 



such inflictions. It is even better to endeavoi 
to soothe the public mind than to exasperate 
men by fresh terrors. In short, when the ring, 
leaders of this nefarious attempt shall have been 
secured, let severity give place to pity for infe- 
aor agents, seduced as they may have been by 
dangerous falsehoods or exaggerated opinions. 

"When just invested with supreme power, 
the first consul, as seems to me, ought rather 
to gain hearts than to be exhibited as ruling 
slaves. Soften by your counsels whatever may 
be too violent in his just resentment. Punish 
— alas I that you must certainly do — but par- 
don still more. Be also the support of those un 
fortunate men who, by frank avowal or repent- 
ance, shall expiate a portion of their crime. 

" Having myself narrowly escaped perishing 
in the Revolution, you must regard as quite 
natural my interference on behalf of those who 
can be saved without involving? in new danger 
the life of my husband, precious to me and to 
France. On this account, do, 1 entreat you, 
make a wide distinction between the authors of 
the crime and those who, through weakness or 
fear, have consented to take a part therein. As 
a woman, a wdfe, and a mother, I must feel the 
heart-rendings of those w^ho will apply to me. 



186 Josephine:. [A.D.1800 



Character of Louis Napoleon. 



.'Vet, citizen minister, in such a manner that the 
number of these may be lessened This will 
,^pare mo much grief. Never will 1 tun. away 
hom the supplications of misfortune. But in the 
?iesont instance you can do infinitel} more '.han 
I, and you will, on this account, excuse my im- 
po/tunity Rely on my gratitude and esteem.*^ 
Hortense was now eighteen years of age 
Lictiis Napoleon, brother of the first consul, was 
twenty-four. The plan was formed by Napo- 
leon and Josephine of uniting them in marriage 
Louis was a studious, imaginative, pensive man, 
\nth no taste for the glitter and pomp of fashion, 
r«nd with a decided aversion to earth's noisy 
ttmbition. He loved communing with his own 
thoughts, the falling leaf, the sighing wind — the 
fireside with its books, its solitude, its sacred so- 
ciety of one or two congenial friends. He be- 
longed to that class of men, always imbued with 
deep feeling, whose happiness is only found in 
those hallow^ed affections which bind kindred 
hearts in congenial pursuits and joys. As Napo- 
leon was riding triumphantly upon his war-horse 
over the Austrian squadrons in Italy, achieving 
those brilliant victories which paved his way to 
the throne of France, Louis, then a young man 
but nineteen years of age, met in Paris* a young 



A.D. 1801.] Character developed. 187 

He is diflappointcd in love. Napoleon tries to heal the wound 

lady, the daughter of an emigrant noble, for whom 
he formed a strong attachment, and his whole 
soul became absorbed in the passion of love. Na- 
poleon was informed of this attachment, and, ap 
prehensive that the alliance of his brother with 
one of the old Royalist families might endanger 
his own ambitious projects, he sent him away on 
a military commission, and with his inflexible 
will and strong arm broke off the connection. 
The young lady was soon afterward married to 
another gentleman, and poor Louis was plunged 
into depths of disappointment and melancholy, 
from whence he never emerged. Life was ever 
after to him but a cloudy day, till, with a grief- 
worn spirit, he sank into the grave. 

Napoleon, conscious of the wound he had in- 
flicted upon his sensitive brother, endeavored, in 
various ways, to make amends. There was very 
much in his gentle, alTectionate, and fervent spir- 
it to attract the tender regard of Napoleon, and 
he ever after manifested toward him a disposi- 
tion of peculiar kindness. It was long before 
Louis would listen to the proposition of his mar- 
riage with Hortense. His aflections still clung, 
though hopelessly, yet so tenaciously to the lost 
object of his idolatry, that he could not think, 
without pain, of his unim with another More 



188 Josephine. [A .D. 1801 



Character of Hortense. She is married to Louii 

uncongenial nuptials could hardly have been 
imagined. Hortense was a beautiful, merry, 
thoughtless girl — amiable, but very fend of ex- 
citement and display. In the ball-room, the 
theater, and other places of brilliant entertain- 
ment, she found her chief pleasures. In addi- 
tion to this incongruity, she was already in love 
with the handsome Duroc, the favorite aid of 
Napoleon. It is not strange that such a young 
lady should have seen as little to fancy in the 
disappointed and melancholy Louis as he could 
see attractive in one who lived but for the pa- 
geantry of the passing hour. Thus both parties 
were equally averse to the match. The tact of 
Josephine, however, and the power of Napoleon 
combined, soon overcame all obstacles, and the 
mirth-loving maiden and the pensive scholar 
were led to their untoward nuptials. Hortense 
became more easily reconciled to the match, as 
her powerful father promised, in consequence of 
this alliance, to introduce her to seats of gran 
deur where all her desires should be gratified. 
Louis, resigning himself to any lot in a world 
which had no further joy in store for him, suf- 
fered himself to be conducted submissively tc 
the altar. 

At the fete given in honor of this marriage, 



^.D. 1801 Character developkd. 181^ 

in uncongenial union. Marriage of Duroo 

the splendors of ancient royalty seemed to be ro- 
vivod. But every eye could see the sadness of 
the newly-married bride beneath the profusion 
of diamonds and flowers with which she wa.i 
idorned. Louis Napoleon, the present President 
jf the French Republic, is the only surviving off- 
spring of this uncongenial union. 

The gay and handsome Duroc, who had been 
the accepted lover of Hortense, was soon after 
married to an heiress, who brought him, with an 
immense fortune, a haughty spirit and an irri- 
table temper, which embittered all his days. 
The subsequent life of Hortense presents one of 
the most memorable illustrations of the insuffi 
ciency of human grandeur to promote happiness 
Josephine witnessed with intense solicitude the 
utter want of congeniality existing between 
them, and her heart often bled as she saw alien 
ation growing stronger and stronger, until it re- 
sulted in an entire separation. Hortense might 
easily have "^von and retained the affections ol 
the pensive Dut warm-hearted Louis, had she 
followed tl e counsels of her noble mother. Jo. 
eephine, herself the almost perfect model of a 
wife, was well qualified to give advice in such a 
case. The following letter, wTitten to Hortense 
some time before her separation from Louis, ex- 



190 Josephine. [AD. 1801 



Letter from Joeephine to Hortense. 



hibits in a most amiable light the character of 
Josephine. 

To Queen Hortense. 

** What I learned eight days ago gave me the 
greatest pain. What I observe to-day confirms 
and augments my sorrow. Why show to Louis 
this repugnance? Instead of rendering him more 
ungracious still by caprice, by inequality of char 
acter, why do you not rather make efforts to sur- 
mount your indifference ? But you will say, he 
is not amiable ! All that is relative. If not in 
your eyes amiable, he may appear so to others, 
and all women do not view him through the me- 
dium of dislike. As for myself, who am here 
altogether disinterested, I imagine that I behold 
him as he is, more loving^ doubtless, than lov- 
able, but this is a great and rare quality. He 
is generous, beneficent, feeling, and, above all, 
an excellent father. If you so willed, he would 
prove a good husband. His melancholy, his love 
of study and retirement, injure him in your e's- 
timation. For these, I ask you, is he to blame? 
Is he obliged to conform his nature to circum- 
stances ? Who could have predicted to him his 
fortune ? But, according to you, he has not even 
the courag'e to bear that fortune. This, I believe» 



A.D. 1801.] Character developed. 191 

She advises Ilortense to be more kind to Louis. 

is an error ; but he certainly wants the sti'ength. 
With his ascetic inclinations, his invincible de- 
sire of retirement and study, he finds himself 
misplaced in the elevated rank to which he has 
attained. You desire that he should imitate 
his brother. Give him, first of aU. the same tem- 
perament. You have not failed to rcnjark that 
almost our entire existence depends uprn our 
health, and that upon our digestion. Let poor 
Louis digest better, and you would find him more 
amiable. But, such as he is, there can be no rea- 
son for abandoning him, or making him feel the 
unbecoming sentiments with which he inspires 
you. Do you, whom I have seen so kind, con- 
tinue to be so at the moment when it is precise- 
ly more than ever necessary. Take pit} on a 
man who has to lament that he possesses what 
would constitute another's happiness ; anl, be- 
fore condemning him, think of others who, like 
him, have groaned beneath the burden of thci? 
greatness, and bathed with their tears that dia- 
dem which they believed had never been des 
tined for their brow." 

This, surely, was admirable counsel, and, had 
Hortense followed it, she vrould have saved her 
self many a long year of loneliness and anguish 
But the impetuous and ^thoughtless bride could 



VJ2 Josephine. [A.D. 1801 

Unhappy disposition of Louis. Errors of Ilortensw 

not repress the repugnance with which she re- 
garded the cold exterior and the exacting love of 
her husband. Louis demanded from her a sin- 
gleness and devotedness of affection which was 
unreasonable. He wished to engross all her 
faculties of loving. He desired that every pas- 
sion of her soul should be centered in him, ani/ 
was jealous of any happiness she found except- 
ing that which he could give. He was even 
troubled by the tender regard with which she 
cherished her mother and her brother, consider- 
ing all the love she gave to them as so much 
withheld from him. Hortense was passionately 
f(>"id of music and of painting. Louis almost 
forbade her the enjoyment of those delightfu. 
accomplishments, thinking that she pursued 
them with a heartfelt devotion inconsistent with 
that supreme love with which she ought to re- 
gard her hushand. Hortense, proud and high- 
spirited, would not submit to such tyranny 
She resisted and retaliated. She became, con-^ 
Bcquently, wretched, and her husband wretch^ 
ed, and discord withered all the joys of home 
At last, the union of such discordant spirits be- 
came utterly insupportable. They separated. 
The story of their domestic quarrels vibrated 
Qpon the ear of Europe. Louis wandered hers 



A..D 1801.] Character lev el oped. 193 



llappinc^so to which she might have attained. 



and tiiere, joyless and sad, till, weary of a mis- 
tirable life, alone and friendless, he died. Ilcr- 
tense retired, with a restless and suffering 
heart, to the mountains of Switzerland, where, 
in a secluded castle, she lingered out the re- 
maining years of her sorrowful pilgrimage. 11 
was an unfortunate matcli. Having been made, 
the only possible remedy was in pursuing the 
course which Josephine so earnestly recom- 
mended. Had Josephine been married to Lou- 
is, she w^ould have followed the course she coun- 
seled her daughter to pursue. She would have 
leaned fondly upon his arm in his morning and 
evening w^alks. She would have cultivated a 
lively interest in his reading, his studies, and 
all his quiet domestic pleasures. She would, 
as far as possible, have relinquished every pur- 
suit which could by any possibility have caused 
him pain. Thus she would have won his love 
md his admiration. Every day her power over 
him would have been increasing. Gradually 
her influence would have molded his character 
to a better model. He would have become 
proud of his wife. He would have leaned upon 
her arm. He would have been supported by 
her affection and her intellectual strength. He 
would have become more cheerful in character 

N 



194 Josephine. [A.D. 1501 



rhe spirit j1 Jcsepliine. Chaiacter of llorteneei, 

and resolute in purpose. Days of tranquillity 
and happiness would have embellished theii 
dwelling. The spirit of Josephine ! It is tiobU 
as well as lovely. It accomplishes the most ex 
alted achievements, and diffuses the most erno- 
bling happiness. There are thousands of uiiicns 
as uncongenial as that of Hortense and Louis. 
From the woes such unio is would naturally 
engender there is but one refuge, and Josephine 
has most beautifully shown what that refuge is. 
Hortense, proud and high-spirited, resolved that 
she would not submit to the exacting demands 
of her husband. In her sad fate we read the 
warning not to imitate ner example, 

Hortense is invariably described as an un- 
usually fascinating woman. She had great 
vivacity of mind, and displayed much brilliance 
of conversational powers. Her person was fine- 
ly formed, and she inherited much of that grace- 
ful demeanor which so signally characterized 
her mother. She was naturally amiable, and 
was richly endowed with all those accomplish- 
ments which enable one to excel in the art uf 
pleasing. Louis, more than any other of th«i 
brothers, most strongly resembled Napoleon. 
He was a very handsome man, and possessed 
far more than ordinary abilities. Under ies» 



A.D.I SOI.] Character developfd 19? 



Calumnlefl against Napoleon. They fail in ther effiF»ct 

nntoward circumstances he might have been 
p.minently happy. Few persons, however, have 
journeyed along the path of life under a darker 
cloud than that which ever shed its gloom upon 
the footsteps of Louis and Hortense. 

Among the various attempts which had been 
made to produce alienation between Napoleon 
and Josephine, one of the most atrocious was 
the whispered insinuation that the strong affec- 
tion which the first consul manifested for Hor 
tense was a guilty passion. Napoleon exhibit- 
ed in the most amiable manner his qualities as 
a father, in the frequent correspondence he car- 
ried on with the two children of Josephine, in 
the interest he took in their studies, and in the 
solicitude he manifested to promote their best 
welfare. He loved Hortense as if she had been 
his own child. Josephine was entirely impreg- 
nable against any jealousy to be introduced from 
that quarter, and a peaceful smile was her oniy 
reply to all such insinuations. Hortense had 
also heard, and had utterly disregarded, these 
ramors. The marriage of Hortense to a brother 
of Napoleon had entirely silenced the calumny, 
and it was soon forgotten. 

Subsequently, when Hortense had become en- 
tirely alienated from her husband, and was re 



196 Josephine. [A..D. 1801 



Cnjust remarks of Hortense. Josephine's reply 

solved upon a separation, Josephine did every 
thing in her power to dissu&de her from an act 
3o rash, so disgraceful, so ruinous to her happi- 
ness. She wrote to her in terms of the most 
earnest entreaty. The self-willed queen, an 
aoyed hy these remonstrances, and unable to re- 
ply to them, ventured to intimate to her mother 
that perhaps she was not entirely disinterested 
in her opposition. In most guarded terms she 
suggested that her mother had heard the ground- 
less accusation of Napoleon's undue fondness, 
and that it was possible that her strong opposi- 
tion to the separation of Hortense from her hus- 
band might originate in the fear that Hortense 
might become, in some degree, her rival in the 
affections of Napoleon. Josephine very prompt- 
ly and energetically replied, 

" You have misunderstood me entirely, my 
child. There is nothing equivocal in my words, 
as there can not exist an uncandid sentiment in 
my heart. How could you imagine that I could 
paiticipate in opinions so ridiculous and so mali- 
cious ? No, Hortense, you do not think that 1 
believe you to be my rival. We do, indeed, both 
reign in the same heart, though by very differ- 
ent, yet by ctjually sacrod rights. And they 
who, in tho affection which ray husbana maw 



A. D. 1801.] i*HARACTEA DEVELOPED. 197 

The lore of glory Napoleon's ruling passion. 



fests for yon, have pretended to discover othei 
sentiments than those of a parent and a friend 
know not his soal. His mind is too elevated 
abo\^e that of the vulgar to be ever accessible tf 
unworthy passions. The passion of glory, if 
you will, engrosses him too entirely for our re- 
pose : but glory, at least, inspires nothing which 
is vile. Such is my profession of faith respect- 
ing Napoleon. I make this confession to you in 
all sincerity, that I may allay your inquietudes. 
When T recommended you to love, or, at least, 
not to repulse liouis, I spoke to you in my char- 
acter of an experienced wife, an attentive moth- 
er, and a tender friend, and in this threefo d ro 
lation do I now embrace you." 



ly8 Josephine. [A.D. 1802. 

loaephine and Napoleon visit Lyons. Josephine makes new friends 



Chapter X. 
The Coronation. 

EARLY in the year 1802 Josephine accom- 
panied Napoleon in various excursions tc 
distant parts of the empire. She went with 
him to Lyons to meet the Italian deputies, who 
had assembled there to confer upon him the 
dignity of President of the Cisalpine Republic. 
The entertainments in Lyons upon this occa- 
sion were arranged with regal magnificence. 
Josephine, by her grace and aifability, secured 
universal admiration, and every tongue was 
eloquent in her praises. Each succeeding month 
seemed now to bring some new honor to Jose- 
phine. Her position as wife of the first consul, 
her known influence over her husband, and the 
almost boundless popularity he had acquired 
over the minds of his countrymen, who were 
ever conducting him by rapid strides to new 
accessions of power, surrounded her with mul- 
titudes striving in every way to ingratiate them 
selves into her favor. 

From Lyons they returned to their beloved 



A..D.1802.] The Coronation. 199 



Return to Malmaisnn. Anecdote of the writing master 



retreat at Malmaison, vhere they passed sev- 
eral weeks. But place and power had already 
deprived them of retirement. Napoleon was 
entirely engrossed with his vast projects of am- 
bition. The avenue to their rural mansion was 
anceasingly thronged with carriages, and the 
saloon of Josephine was ever filled with the 
most illustrious guests. 

One day Josephine happened to be in the 
cabinet with her husband alone. A man, whose 
coat was much the worse for wear, and whose 
whole appearance presented many indications 
of the struggle with poverty, was ushered into 
the room. He appeared greatly embarrassed, 
and at length, with much confusion introduced 
himself as the writing-master at Brienne who 
had taught the first consul hand- writing. " And 
a fine penman you made of me I" exclaimed Na- 
poleon, in affected anger. " Ask my wife ther€' 
what she thinks of my writing." The poor 
man stood trembling in trepidation, when Jose« 
phine looked up with one of her sweetest smilw?. 
md said, " I assure you, sir, his letters are por- 
ectly delightful." Napoleon laughed at the 
well-timed compliment, and settled upon the 
writing-master a small annuity for life. It was 
a noble trait in the character of the first oonsaJ 



200 Josephine. [A. D 1802 

Tour of the northern provinces Enthusiasm of the people 

that in his days of power ho was ever mindful 
of those w^hc w^ere the friends of his early years. 
AH the instructors of the school he attended at 
Brienne were thus remembered by him. 

Napoleon and Josephine now made the toui 
of the northern provinces of France. They 
were every where -eceived with unbounded en 
thusiasm. The first consul had, indeed, con 
ferred the greatest blessings on his country 
He had effectually curbed the Revolutionary 
fury. He had established the reign of law 
Thousands of exiles he had restored to their 
homes rejoicing. The discomfited armies of 
France he had led to new and brilliant victo- 
ries. Under his administration every branch 
of business had revived. From every part of 
the empire Napoleon received the most enthu 
siastic expressions of gratitude and attachment 
He now began more seriously to contemplate 
ascending the throne of France. Conscious jf 
his own power, and ambitious of the ^'lory of 
elevating his country to the highest pinnacle ol 
earthly greatness, and witnessing the enthusi- 
asm of admiration which his deeds had excited 
in the public mind, he no longer doubted that 
his countrymen would soon be ready to place 
the scepter of empire in his hands. He though* 
♦;hat the pear was now tine. 



A.D.1802] The Coronation. 201 



Josephine ever solicitous in behalf of the ccmfort rf others. 



Josephine ever enjoyed most highly accom- 
panying her husband on these tours, and she, 
3n such jccasions, manifested, in the most at- 
':ractive manner, her readiness to sacrifice hci 
i\vn personal comfort to promote the happiness 
,f others. Napoleon was in the habit of moving 
with such rapidity, and of setting out so unex- 
pectedly upon these journeys, and he was so per- 
emptory in his injunctions as to the places where 
he intended to halt, that often no suitable accom- 
modations could be provided for Josephine and 
her attendant ladies. No complaint, however, 
was ever heard from her lips. No matter how 
great the embarrassment she encountered, she 
ever exhibited the same imperturbable cheerful- 
ness and good humor. She always manifested 
much more solicitude in reference to the accom- 
modation of her attendants than for her own com- 
fort. She would herself visit their apartments, 
and issue personal directions to promote their 
convenience. One night, just as she was about 
to retire to rest, she observed that her waiting- 
woman had but a single mattress, spread upon 
the floor, for her repose. She immediately, with 
her own hands, took from the bed destined {'ot 
herself another mattress, and supplied the deh- 
oiency, that her waiting-woman might sleep 



202 Josephine. [A.D. 1802 



Benevolence l f Joaephine's hean. The palRce of St. Cloud 

more comfortably. Whenever any of her house- 
hold were sick, Josephine promptly visited theii 
bedside, and with her own hands ministered to 
their wants. She would remember them at hor 
own table, and from the luxurious viands spread 
out before her, would select delicacies which 
might excite a failing appetite. It often hap- 
pened, in these sudden and hasty journeys, that, 
from want of accommodation, some of the party 
were compelled to remain in the carriages while 
Napoleon and Josephine dined. In such cases 
they were never forgotten. This was not policy 
and artifice on the part of Josephine, but the in- 
stinctive dictates of a heart overflowing with be- 
nevolence. 

On Napoleon's return from this tour he took 
possession of the palace of St. Cloud. This was 
another step toward the throne of the Bourbons, 
This magnificent abode of ancient grandeur had 
been repaired and most gorgeously furnished 
The versatile French, weary of Republican sini* 
plicity, witnessed with joy the indications of t, 
return of regal magnificence. A decree aisc 
panted to Josephine " four ladies, to assist hei 
in doing the honors of the palace." No occupant 
of these splendid saloons ever embellished them 
more richly by foe display of queenly graces thao 



A.I). 1802.] The Coronation 203 



Ifapoleon's views of Christianity. Striking remarlu 

did Josephine ; and Napoleon, now constituted 
first consul for life, reigned with pomp and power 
which none of his predecessors had ever surpassed. 
The few remaining forms of the Republic rapidly 
disappeared. Josephine exerted much influence 
over her husband's mind in inducing him to re- 
establish the institutions of the Christian reli- 
gion. Napoleon at that time did not profess to 
have any faith in the divine origin of Christianity. 
Infidelity had swept resistlessly over France, and 
nearly every man of any note in the camp and 
in the court was an unbeliever. He was, con- 
sequently, very bitterly opposed in all his en- 
deavors to reinstate Christianity. One evening 
ne was walking upon the terrace of his garden 
at Malmaison, most earnestly conversing with 
some influential members of the government 
upon this subject. 

" Religion," saia he, " is something which can 
not be eradicated from the heart of man. He 
must believe in a superior being. Who made 
all that ?" he continued, pointing to the stars 
i^rilliantly shining in the evening sky. " Last 
Sunday evening J was walking here alone, when 
the church bells of the village of Ruel rang at 
iunset. I was strongly moved, so vividly did 
the image of early days come bade with that 



204 Josephine, [A.D. 1802 

InflueKOS of Josephine in the re-establishment of Christianity. 

sound. If it be thus with me, what must it be 
with others? Let your philosophers answei 
that, if they can. It is absolutely indispensable 
to have a religion for the people. ' In re-estal> 
lishing Christianity, I consult the wishes of a 
great majority of the French nation." 

Josephine probably had very little religious 
know^ledge. She regarded Christianity as a sen- 
timent rather than a principle. She felt the po- 
etic beauty of its revelations and its ordinances. 
She knew how holy were its charities, how pure 
its precepts, how ennobling its influences, even 
when encumbered with the grossest supersti- 
tions. She had seen, and dreadfully had sh^^ 
felt, what France was without religion — with 
marriage a mockery, conscience a phantom, and 
death proclaimed to all an eternal sleep. She 
therefore most warmly seconded her husband in 
all endeavors to restore again to desolated Franc 
the religion of Jesus Christ. 

The next morning after the issuing of tlie 
proclamation announcing the re-establish tnun 
of public worship a grand religious ceremony 
took place in lionr r of the occasion in the church 
of Notre Dame. Napoleon, to produce a deep 
impression upc n the public mind, invested the 
occasion with all possible pomp. As he wa* 



A..D.1802.] The Coronation. 205 

Religious ceremony at N6tre Dame. Proclamation of Napoleoa 

preparing to go to the Cathedral, one of his col- 
leagues, Canibaceres, entered the room. 

'' Well," said the first consul, rubbing his 
bands in fine spirits, " we go to church thw 
moi;.ing; what say they to that in Paris?" 

'* Many people," replied Cambaceres, " pro- 
pose to attend the first representation in ordei 
to hiss the piece, should they not find it amus- 
ing." 

" If any one takes it into his hea/i to hiss, I 
shall put him out of the door by the grenadiers 
of the consular guard." 

" But what if the grenadiers themselves take 
to hissing like the rest ?" 

"As to that, I have no fear. My old mus- 
taches will go here to Notre Dame just as at 
Cairo they would have gone to the mosque. 
They will remark how I do, and, seeing their 
general grave and decent, they will be so too, 
passing the w^atchword to each other. Decency I''^ 

In the noble proclamation which the first 
icnsul issued upon this great event, he says, 
' An insane policy has sought, during the Rev- 
?Iutii}n, to smother religious dissensions undei 
the ruins of the altar, under the ashes of relisr- 
ion itself. At its voice all those pious solemni- 
ties ceased in which the citizens called each 



206 Josephine [AD. 1802 



Christian charity recommended. Triumph of Chrilstianity 

Other by the endearing name of brothers, and 
acknowledged their common equality in the 
sight of Heaven. The dying, left alone in hi? 
agonies, no longer heard that consoling voic< 
which calls the Christian to a better world 
God himself seemed exiled from the face of na- 
ture. Ministers of the religion of peace ! let a 
complete oblivion veil over your dissensions, 
your misfortunes, your faults. Let the religion 
which unites you bind you by indissoluble cords 
to the interests of your country. Citizens of 
the Protestant faith! the law has equally ex- 
tended its solicitude to your interests. Let the 
morality, so pure, so holy, so brotherly, which 
you profess, unite you all i^ love to your coun- 
try and respect for its laws ; and, above all, 
never permit disputes on doctrinal points to 
weaken that universal charity which religion 
at once inculcates and commands." 

This, surely, is a great triumph of Christian' 
ity. A man like Napoleon, even though not at 
the time a believer in its divine origin, was so 
perfectly satisfied of its beneficial influence upon 
mankind, that, as a matter of state policy, he 
felt compelled to reinstate its observances. 

Josephine cherished emotions of the deepest 
gratitude toward all thoep who 'lad proved 



A.D. 1800.1 The Coronation. 2^7 

Madame Tallien disliked by Napoleon. Dissipation in Pari* 

friendly to her in the days of her adversity 
Napoleon, with his strong prejudices, often took 
a dislike to those whom Josephine loved. Ma- 
dame Tallien, the companion of Josephine in 
'ler capi*vity and her benefactor after her re- 
case, was, for some unknown reason, peculiarly 
obnoxious to Napoleon. She was extremely 
beautiful and very ambitious, and her exclusion 
from the splendors of the nev/ court, now daily 
becoming more brilliant, mortified her exceed- 
ingly. Josephine also was greatly troubled. 
She could not disregard the will of her husband, 
and her heart recoiled from the thought of in- 
gratitude toward one who had been her friend 
in adversity. At this time, in Paris, pleasure 
seemed to be the universal object of pursuit. 
All the restraints of religion had been swept 
away, and masked balls, gambling, and every 
species of dissipation attracted to the metroyu)- 
lis the wealthy and the dissolute frcm allj^arts 
of Europe. Napoleon never made his appear- 
ance in any of these reckless scenes of revelry. 
He ever was an inveterate enemy to gambling 
in all its forms, and had no relish for luxurious 
indulgence. Josepliine, however, accompanied 
by Eiigene, occasionally looked in upon the 
lancers at the masked balls. On one of these 



208 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 

Incident at a masked ball. Josephine and Madame Talliea 

occasions a noble lady witnessed an incident 
which she has recorded in the following words : 
" Chance rendered rae witness of a singulai 
acene at one of these balls. It was near two 
o'clock in the morning, the crowd immense, 
and the heat overpowering. I had ascended 
for a few moments to the apartments above, 
and, refreshed by the cool air, was about to de- 
scend, when the sound of voices in the adjoining 
room, in earnest conversation, caught my at- 
tention. Applying my ear to the partition, the 
name of Bonaparte, and the discovery that Jo- 
sephine and Madame Tallien were the speak- 
ers, excited a real curiosity. " I assure you, 
my dear Theresina," said Josephine, " that I 
have done all that friendship could dictate, but 
in vain No later than this morning I made a 
new effort. Bonaparte would hear of nothing, 
[ can not comprehend what can have prejudiced 
him so strongly against you. You are the only 
woman whose name he has effaced from the list 
of my particular friends ; and from fear lef t he 
should manifest his displeasure directly against 
OS have I now come hither alone with my son. 
A.t this moment they believe me sound asleep 
in my bed at the Tuilleries ; but I determinei 
on coming to see, to Avarn, and to console j"n 
and, above all, to justify mvself*' 



A.D. laOO.] The Coronation. 209 



rhe stolen interview. Eugene 'ntcrrupta it 

" IVIy dear Josephine," Madame Tallion re- 
plied, "I have never doubted either the good- 
uess jf your heart or the sincerity of your af- 
fection. Heaven is my witness that the loss 
of your friendship would be to me much more 
painful than any dread of Bonaparte. In th^.se 
difiicult times, I have maintained a conduct that 
might, perhaps, render my visits an honor, but 
I will never importune you to receive me with- 
)ut his consent. He v/as not consul when Tal- 
lien followed him into Egypt, when I received 
j'on both into my house, when I shared with 
vou — " Here she burst into tears, and hei 
voice became inaudible. 

" Calm yourself, my dear Theresina," Jose- 
phine rejoined ; "be calm, and let the storir 
pass. I am paving the way for a reconcilia- 
tion, but we must not irritate him more. You 
know that he does not love Ouvrard, and it is 
i?aid that he often sees you." 

" What, then," Madame Tallien replied. 
'' because he governs France, does he expect tc 
tyrannize over our hearts ? IVIust we sacrifiou 
to him our private friendships ?" 

At that moment some one knocked at the 
door, and Eugene Beauharnais entered. " Ma- 
dame," said he to his mother, '* you hive ^u!C«3 

O 



210 Josephine. ^A.D.lSOf 

Ouyrard Rumors. Apprehensions of JosepiJitf 

now more than an hour absent. The oounci 
of ministers is perhaps over. What will the 
first consul say, should he not find you on hii 
return?" The two ladies then, arm in arn, 
descended the stairs, conversing in earnest whis- 
pers, followed by Eugene. 

This Ouvrard, to whom allusion is made 
above, was a famous banker in Paris, of enor- 
mous wealth, and engaged in the most wild 
and extravagant speculations. 

It now began to be rumored that Napoleon 
would soon be crowned as king. Very many of 
the nation desired it, and though there was as 
yet no public declaration, vague hints and float- 
ing rumors filled the air. Josephine was greatly 
disquieted. It seemed more and more important 
that Napoleon should have an heir. There was 
now no prospect that Josephine would ever be- 
come again a mother. She heard, with irrepress- 
ible anguish, that it had been urged upon her 
husband that the interests of France required 
thLt he should obtain a divorce and marry again ; 
that alliance with one of the ancient royal fam- 
dies of Europe, and the birth of a son, to whom 
he could transmit his crown, would place his 
power upon an impregnable foundation. Jose- 
phine 'X)uld not but perceive the apparent polioi? 



A.D. 1800.] T^iE Coronation. 211 

Anecdote. Introduction .if regal state. 

of the great wrong. And though she knew thai 
Napoleon truly and tenderly loved her, she also 
feared that there was no sacrifice which he was 
aot ready to make in obedience to the claims of 
lis towering ambition. 

One-day she softly entered the cabinet without 
being announced. Bonaparte and Bourrienne 
were conversing together. The day before, an 
article appeared in the Moniteur, evidently pre- 
paring the way for the throne. Josephine gently 
approached her husband, sat down upon his knee, 
affectionately passed her hand through his hair 
and over his face, and, with moistened eyes and 
a burst of tenderness, exclaimed, ^' I entreat you, 
mon ami, do not make yourself a king. It is 
Lucien who urges you to it. Do not even list- 
en to him." 

Bonaparte, smiling very pleasantly, replied, 
" Why, my dear Josephine, you are crazy. You 
must not listen to these tales of the old dowa- 
gers. But you interrupt us now. I am very 
busy." 

During the earlier period of Napoleon's con- 
sulship, like the humblest citizen, he occupied 
the same bed-chamber with his spouse. But 
now that more of regal ceremony and state was 
being introduced to the consular establishment 



315J JOSEIHINE [A.D. 18(Xi 

Napoleon and Josephine occupy separate apartments. 

their domestic intercourse, to the great grief of 
Josephine, assumed more of cold formality. Sep* 
arate apartments were assigned to Josephine a1 
a considerable distance from those occupied b} 
'acr husband, and it was necessary to traverse 
a long corridor to pass from one to the other 
The chambers of the principal ladies of the court 
opened upon this corridor from the right and 
the left. The splendor with which Josephine's 
rooms were furnished was no compensation to 
her for the absence of that affectionate familiar- 
ity for which her heart ever yearned. She also 
suspected, with anguish, that this separation 
was but the prelude of the divorce she so fear- 
fully apprehended. Whenever Napoleon passed 
the night in the apartment of Josephine, it was 
known to the whole household. Josephine, at 
such times, always appeared at a later hour in 
the morning than usual, for they generally passed 
half the night in conversation. 

"I think I see her still," writes one of thf 
aJics of her household, " coming in to breakfast, 
looking quite cheerful, rubbing her little hands, 
as she was accustomed to do when peculiarly 
happy, and apologizing for having risen so late 
On such occasions she was, if possible, more 
gracious than usual, refused nobody, and wf 



A..D. 1800.] The Coronation. 213 

losephine advocates the cause of the Bourbons. A preaeDt 

were sure of obtaining every thing we asked, as 
I have myself many times experienced." 

Tl J Bourbons had been for some time in oor- 
fcs}x>ndence v^ith Napoleon, hoping, through his 
igcncy, to regain the throne. He assured them 
that their restoration could not possibly be ac- 
complished, even by the sacrifice of the lives of 
a million of Frenchmen. .losephine, who had 
sufTered so much from anarchy, was a decided 
Royalist, and she exerted all her powers to in- 
duce Napoleon to make the attempt to reinstate 
the Bourbons. When her friends congratulated 
her upon the probability that she would soon be 
Empress of France, with heartfelt sincerity she 
replied, " To be the wife of the first consul ful- 
fills my highest ambition. Let me remain so." 
The Bourbons expressed much gratitude at the 
time in view of Josephine's known intercessions 
in their behalf 

About this time a serious accident happened 
to the first consul, which also 3xposed Jos6 
pliine to much danger. The inhabitants ol 
Antwerj) had made Napoleon a present of sii 
magnificent bay horses. With four of these 
spirited steeds harnessed to the carriage, Napo- 
leon was one day taking an airing, with Jose- 
phin" ^nd Cambaceres, the second consul, in 



«14 Josephine [A.D. 180D 



Napoleon takes l« the whip Accident resulting from his unskillfulness 

the park. Napoleon, taking a fanc}' to drive 
four in hand, mounted the coach-box, and Cae- 
sar, his favorite coachman, was stationed be- 
hind. The horses soon discovered that ihey 
had a new and inexperienced driver, and start> 
od off at the top of their speed. Napoleon lost 
all control over them, and the frightened ani- 
mals, perfectly ungovernable, dashed along the 
road at a fearful rate. Caesar kept shouting to 
Napoleon. " Keep in the middle I" Cambacc- 
res, pale with fright, thrust his head out of the 
window, and shouted " Whoa ! whoa !" Jose- 
phine, greatly alarmed, sank back in her seat, 
and in silent resignation awaited the issue 
As they approached the avenue to St. Cloud, 
the imperial driver had not sufficient skill to 
guide them safely through the gateway. The 
coach struck against one of the pillars, and was 
overturned with a terrible crash. Josephine 
and Cambaceres were considerably bruised- 
Vapoleon was thrown from his seat to the dis-, 
feance of eight or ten paces, and was taken np 
Insensible. He, however, soon recovered. O5 
rstiring at night, they amused themselves in 
talking Dver the misadventure. " Mon ami," 
said Josephine, laughing, " you must render 
unto Caesar the things that be Caesar's. Let 



A.D. 1800.] The Cokonatxon. 21fi 

lli^wleon's views of death. Subsequent change of opinion. 

him keep his whip. Each to his vocanon.' 
The conversation was continued for some time 
in a tone of pleasantry. Gradually Napoleon 
became m(»re .»»erious. He seemed to be reflect- 
ing deeply, and paid that he never before came 
80 near to death. ''Indeed," said he, ^* I was 
for some moments virtually dead. But what 
is death ? what is death ' It is merely a sleep 
without dreams." 

Such were probably, at this time, the views 
of Napoleon upon immoi tality. He subse- 
quently professed himself a sincere believer in 
the divine origin of Christianity, and wished to 
die within the pale of the Christian Church. 
That mind which can contemplate death with 
levity must be either exceedingly weak or hope- 
lessly deranged. 

While nearly all who surrounded the first 
consul were contemplating with the utmost sat 
isfaction his approaching elevation to the throncj 
the subject awakened in the bosom of Jose- 
phine the most agitating emotions. Slie saw 
in the splendor of the throne peril to licr hus- 
band, and the risk of entire downfall to herself 
" The real enemies of Bonaparte," said j<he U 
Rcederer, "are those who put into his head 
ideas of hereditary sur-eession, dynasty, divorce. 



21(5 Josephine. [A.D. 1805: 



Reuaonstrances of Josephine. Titled itgUshmen in Pari* 

and marriage." Again she is represented as 
^?aym^. "I do not approve the projects o^ Na- 
poleon. I have often told him so. He hears 
xie with attention, but I can plainly see that 1 
make no impression. The flatterers who sur- 
round him soon obliterate all that I have said. 
The new honors which he will acquire will aug- 
ment the number of his enemies. The gener- 
iils will exclaim that they have not fought so 
long merely to substitute the family of the 
Bonapartes for that of the Bourbons." 

The peace ratified by the treaty of Amient- 
in 1802 threw open the Continent to travelers 
from England. There were thousands in thai 
country who were great admirers of Napoleon 
The Tuilleries, St. Cluud, and Malmaison were 
con.^equently evei thronged with illustrious 
strano:ers from the island with which France 
had so long been eno^aojed in war. The celo- 
brated statesman, Mr. Fox, with Lord and Lady 
Holland, Lord Erskuie, and several others of 
Uie most distinguished of the English nobility, 
vrere visiting Paris, and one morning were at a 
breakfast party at Madame Recamier's. Break 
fast was nearly coneludt.'J, when the sounds o/ 
a horseman galloping into the court-yari) were 
heard Euseuf^ B«'.auharnais wa>: iiumt'diatch 



A..D.1802.J The Ooronation. 21"/ 

/ooephine invites them to Malmaison. Their reception 

after announced. After a few words of regret 
expressed to the lady of the house for having 
arrived so late, he turned to Mr. Fox and said, 
" 1 hope, sir, soon to .ndemnify myself for the 
OSS of your society which I have this morning 
sustained. I am commissioned by my mother 
to attend you to Malmaison. The carriages 
will be here in a few moments which are foi 
the accommodation of you and your friends, 
when you can resolve on leaving so many 
charms as must detain you here. I shall, with 
much pleasure, act as your guide." 

The carriages of the first consul soon arrivea 
and the whole party proceeded to Malmaison 
Josephine received her guests with that cour- 
tesy and refined cordiality in which she was 
unrivaled. Bonaparte, knowing the powerful 
influence of the illustrious English statesman, 
was very desirous that he should receive a fa- 
vorable impression from his visit. It required 
but little effort on the part of Josephine to ex- 
3el in the art of pleasing. She banished all 
para 1^-, and received her guests as family friends. 
The day was spent at Malmaison, and Mr. Fox 
afterward stated that he retired from the visit 
enchanted with the elegance and grace of al 
that he saw and heard. 



218 Jdsephine. [A.D. 1804 



OisBipation In Paria- Napoleon declared emperor 

Ten years had passed, daring which France 
had been in a state of constant warfare. The 
short peace which succeeded the treaty of 
Vmiene filled Paris with the best society of 
Europe Extravagance and dissipation reigned 
n the metropolis. But in those scenes of dis- 
sipation neither Napoleon nor Josephine ever 
made their appearance. His mind was ever 
engrossed with the magnificent plans he was 
forming and the deeds he was achieving. Jo- 
sephine was equally engaged in watching over 
the interests of her husband, and in gaining and 
confirming friends to his cause. 

On the 18th of May, 1804, by a decree of 
the senate. Napoleon was declared Emperor 
of France. The decree was sent out to the 
various departments for the action of the peo- 
ple. The result w^as, that 8,572,329 voted in 
the affirmative, while but 2569 were in the 
negative. A. more unanimous expression of a 
Qation's will history never has recorded. The 
day after his elevation to the imperial throae, 
the empcroi leld a grand levee at the Tuillo- 
ries, and Josephine, with many fears darkening 
tliis hour of exultation, made her first appear- 
ance as the Empress of France. The decree 
aniioiinoing Napoleon Bonapartf} to b^ the em 



A.D. 1804.1 The Coronation 219 



Josepblne's fears. Grand levfee. Josephine's elevated position 

peror of France also declared that the imperial 
iignity should be hereditary in his family. The 
empress struggled against her fears, but her 
hearl was heavy, and she found but Utile joy 
jpon this high pinnacle of power. She alsc 
plainly foresaw that the throne of her husband, 
apparently so gorgeous and massive, was erect- 
ed upon a very frail foundation. 

At tlie grand levee held upon this occasion, 
the assembly was the most brilliant and numer- 
ous that had ever yet been witnessed in Paris 
The renown of Napoleon now filled the world, 
and noted men from every land thronged his 
saloons. Josephine found herself elevated to the 
position of the most illustrious of the queens of 
Europe. The power of her hu^;band was supe- 
rior to that of any of the surrounding monarchs, 
and she received the homage of all as uccupying 
an elevation such as no queen had ever attained 
before. 

The second of December, 1804, was appointed 
for the ceremony of coronation. The pageant 
^as to take place in the church of Notre Dame 
The pope came from Rome to [)lacc the crown 
apon this lofty, though plebeian brow. For ton 
centuries such an honor had not been conferred 
apon any monarch. The day was clear and brill 



220 Josephine. jA.D. 1804 

Fr^parati. ns for the coronation. Dress of Josephine 

iant, but intensely cold. The venerable walls of 
Notre Dame had never before w^itnessed sucii 
luxury and such magnificence as was now dis 
p ajed. Carriages glittering with gold and pur- 
p e trappings ; horses proudly caparisoned ; offi 
3€rs in the richest uniforms, and in court dresses 
sumptuously embroidered ; servants in most gor- 
geous liveries ; and a waving sea of ostrich 
plumes, bewildered the multitude with the un- 
wonted splendor. 

The empress appeared in a robe of white satin, 
embroidered with gold, and profusely ornament- 
ed with diamonds. A mantle of crimson velvet, 
lined with white satin and ermine, floated over her 
shoulders, and golden bees were clustered over 
the dress. The coronation jewels consisted of a 
crown, a diadem, and a girdle. The coronation 
crown consisted of eight golden branches, four 
in imitation of palm, and four of myrtle leaves. 
The dew-drops glittering upon this foliage were 
brilliant diamonds. A golden-corded band sur- 
rounded the crown, embijilished with eight very 
laige emeralds. The bandeau inclosing the 
head glittered resplendent with amethysts 
This was the coronation crown, which was used 
only upon state occasions. The diadem, which 
was for more ordinary service, was composed ^ 



A.D. 1;:^04.] The Coronatiow. 22i 



Dress of Napoleon. The imperial carriage 

four rows of pearls interlaced with diamonds 
In front were several very large brJliants, one 
of which weighed one hundred and forty-nine 
grains. The ceinture or girdle was of pure gold, 
HO pure as to be quite elastic, embellished with 
thirty-nine rose-colored diamonds. 

Napoleon wore a close dress of white velvet, 
embroidered in gold, with diamond buttons. 
His stockings were of white silk. The robe and 
mantle were of crimson velvet, richly embroid- 
ered in gold and embellished with diamonds. 
Napoleon seemed to regret the vast expense at- 
tending this display, while at the same time he 
was conscious of its importance to impress the 
minds of the Parisians. The emperor was pro- 
fuse in expenditure to promote the granaeur and 
glory of the nation, but very frugal in his per- 
sonal expenses. 

The imperial carriage, constructed expressly 
for the occasion, was the most exquisite piece of 
workmanship Parisian ingenuity could devise 
Et was drawn by eight bay horses. The panel' 
ing was entirely of glass. As the emperor and 
empress entered the carriage, they both, by mis- 
take, sat down with their backs toward the 
horses. Josephine, immediately perceiving the 
error, lightly changed her seat, et the same tim« 



*I22 


Josephine. 


A.D. 1804 


& spIeDdid pageant. 




The throne 



saying smilingly to her husban<l, as she point- 
e«l to the rich cushion at her side, " Mon ami! 
unless you prefer riding vis-k-vis, this is youi 
seat " Napoleon laughed heartily at the bluu- 
ier, and changed his seat. Double files of in- 
fantry lined the route of more than a milo and 
a half, extending from the Tuilleries to Notre 
Dame. Ten thousand horsemen, in most gor- 
geous uniforms, attended the carriages. Haifa 
million of spectators thronged the way, crowd- 
ing the windows and balconies, clustered upon 
the house-tops, and filling up every space from 
whence any view of the cortege could be gained 
The air was filled with the martial strains of a 
thousand bands, with the thunders of innumer- 
able pieces of artillery, and with the enthusiastic 
acclamations of the vast multitude. A pageant 
more sublime this world perhaps has never wit 
fiessed. 

The throne, which was hung with crimson 
velvet, was overarched with a canopy of tha 
same rich material. It was ascended by twen- 
ty-two circular steps, whic^i were covered with 
blue cloth, studded with golden bees. The most 
illustrious officers of the empire crowded the 
stdirs. Napoleon ar.d Josephine sat, side by 
iidn, upon the throne Twe religious ceremony 



A..D. 1804.] The Coronation. 225 



Napoleon crowns himself and Josephine. A touching scene 

occupied nearly four hours. It was interspersed 
with the most soul-stirring music from martia. 
bands and from more than three hundred vocal 
performers. When the pope was about to place 
the crown upon the brow of the emperor, Napo- 
leon took it from him, and placed it, with his 
own hands, upon his head. He then took it off 
and crowned the empress, also with his own 
hands, fixing his eye proudly, yet most tenderly, 
upon her. The heavy crown was soon after laid 
upon a cushion, while a smaller diadem was 
placed upon the head of Josephine. She kneeled 
before her illustrious consort as he placed the 
crown of France upon her brow. After remain- 
ing for a moment in silence in the posture of 
prayer, with her hands folded over her bosom 
she then gracefully rose, her eyes swimming in 
tears, and turned to her husband with a look of 
gratitude and of love which the emperor feeling 
ly recognized. It was a touching scene, and ic 
that moment were clustered the memories of 
years. 

But the day was not without its momenty 
of anguish for Josephine. In the brief speech 
which the emperor made upon the occasion, he 
«!aid, "My descendants will long sit uvon tfiis 
throne,^ These words were as a dagger to the 

P 



226 Josephine. [A.D.1804. 

Pious emotions of Josephiae. Impatience of Napoleon 

heart of the empress. She knew Napoleon's in* 
tense desire for an heii . She knew how strong 
the desire in France was that he should have a 
ion b) whom to transmit his throne. She knew 
how much had been said respecting the neces- 
sity of a divorce. The most infamous proposals 
had been urged upon her by pretended friends, 
even by one of the brothers of Napoleon, that 
she might, by unfaithfulness to him, obviate the 
necessity of Napoleon's seeking another bride. 
This sentiment, uttered upon the day of corona- 
tion, filled her heart with fear and anguisn. 

The shades of evening had fallen upon the 
swarming city, and all the streets of the metrop- 
olis and the broad facade of the Tuilleries were 
glittering with illuminations when the emperor 
and empress returned to the palace. Josephine, 
overcome with the conflicting emotions which 
tlie day had excited, retired to her apartment, 
and, failing upon her knees, with tears implored 
the guidance of the King of kings. Napoleon 
hastened to his room, exclaiming impatiently 
U an attendant as he entered, " Off, off with 
these confounded trappings I" He threw the 
mantle into one corner of the room, and the gor* 
geous robe into another, and, thus violently dis- 
on'^.umberiu^ himself, declared that hours ol 



A.D. 1S04.] The Coronation. 227 

oeephine'8 forebodings fulfilled. Desires to lorget her titie 

such mortal tediousness he had never encoun- 
tered before. 

Josephine, in her remonstrances with Napo- 
leon against assuming the crown, predicted, 
with ahnost prophetic accuracy, the conse- 
quences which would ensue. " Will not youi 
power," she wrote to him, " opposed, as to a cer- 
tainty it must be, by the neighboring states, 
draw you into a war with them ? This will 
probably end in their ruin. Will not their 
neighbors, beholding these effects, combine for 
your destruction ? While abroad such is the 
state of things, at home how numerous the en- 
vious and discontented I How many plots to 
disconcert, and how many conspiracies to pun- 
ish." 

Soon after the coronation, Josephine was one 
morning in her garden, when an intimate friend 
called to see her. She saluted the empress by 
the title of Your Majesty. " Ah !" she ex- 
claimed, in tones deeply pathetic, " I entreat 
that you will suffer me, at least here, to forget 
that 1 am an empress." It is the unvarying 
testimony of her friends, that, while she was 
receiving witli surpassing gracefulness the con- 
gratulations of France and of Europe, her heart 
was heavy. She clearly foresaw the peril of 



228 Josephine. \A.D. 1804 

Josephiae's regrets. Corruption of the court of Franeoi 

their position, and trembled in view of an ap- 
proaching downfall. The many formal cere- 
n:ionies which her station required, and upon 
vhich Napoleon laid great stress, were exceed- 
ingly irksome to one whose warm heart rejoiced 
in the familiarity of unrestrained friendship 
She thus described her feelings : " The nearer 
my husband approached the summit of earthly 
greatness, the more dim became my last gleams 
of happiness. It is true that I enjoyed a mag- 
nificent existence. My court was composed of 
gentlemen and ladies the most illustrious in 
rank, all of whom were emulous of the honor 
of being presented to me. But my time was 
no longer at my command. The emperor was 
receiving from every part of France congratula- 
tions upon his accession to the throne, while I 
myself sighed in contemplating the immense 
power he had acquired. The more I saw him 
loaded with the gifts of Fortune, the m( to \ 
feared his fall." 

The court of France had for ages been the 
scene of the most voluptuous and unblushing 
vice. The whole nation had been corrupted by 
its influence. Dissipation had been rendered 
attractive by the grace with which it had beer 
robed. The dissokite manners which had pre* 



A.D.lhl04] The C^.^onation. 229 



Napoleon scrupulous in forming his court The Duchess d'Aig lilloa 

vailed at Versailles, the Tuilleries, and St. 
Cloud no pen can describe. Napoleon determ- 
ined that, at all hazards, his court should be 
reputable at least in outward morality. He 
was more scrupulous upon this point even than 
Josephine herself. Believing that the downfall 
of the Bourbons was caused, in no inconsidera- 
ble degree, by the dissolute lives of the nobler 
and the courtiers, he would give no one an ap- 
pointment among the royal retinue whose char- 
acter was not, in his judgment, above reproach 

The Duchess d'Aiguillon had been a fellow- 
captive of Josephine, and, after their liberation 
from prison, had greatly befriended her. Dur- 
ing the license of those times, in which all the 
restraints of Christian morality had been swept 
away, her character had not remained perfectly 
spotless. She and her husband had availed 
themselves of the facile liberty of divorce which 
the laws had encouraged, and had formed other 
unions. Josephine felt grateful for the many 
favors she had received from the duchess, and 
wished to testify this gratitude by receiving hor 
at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Jc . 
sephine wrote to her in the following terms : 

" My dear Friend, — I am deeply afHicted 
My forme" friends, supposing that I am able to 



<^30 Josephine. A.JD. 1804. 

Letter from Josephine to the Duchess d'Aiguillon. 



obtain the fulfillment of all my wishes, must 
suppose that I have forgotten the past. Alas I 
it is not so. I remember it too well, and my 
'"houghts dwell upon it more than I would have 
them. The more I think of what my friends 
did for me, the greater is my sorrow at being 
unable to do now what my heart dictates. The 
Empress of France is but the first slave in the 
empire, and can not pay the debts of Madame 
de Beauharnais. This constitutes the torture 
of my life, and will explain why you do not oc- 
cupy a place near me. The emperor, indignant 
at the total disregard of morality, and alarmed 
at the progress it might still make, is resolved 
that the example of a life of regularity and of 
religion shall be presented in the palace where 
he reigns. Desirous of strengthening more and 
more the Church re-established by himself, and 
unable to change the laws appointed by her ob- 
servances, his intention is, at least, to keep aJ 
a distance from his court all who may have 
availed themselves of the opportunity for a li» 
vorce. Hence the cause of his refusing the fa 
vor T asked of having you with me. The re- 
fusal has occasioned me unspeakable regret, 
but he is too absolute to leave even the hope of 
eeeing him retract. I am thus constrained it 



A.D.1804.] The Coronation. 231 



Josephine net her own mistress. 



renounce the pleasure I had promised myself 
of being constantly with you, studying to make 
you forget the sovereign in the friend. Pity 
fmy lot in being too public a personage to follow 
my own inclination, and cherish for me a friend- 
ship, the remembrance of which gives me now 
as much pleasure as its reality afforded conso- 
lation in prison. Often do I regret that small, 
dark, and dismal chamber which we shared to- 
gether, for there, at least, I could pour out my 
whole heart, and was sincerely beloved in re* 
turn." 



232 Josephine. [A.D.1S05 

Coronatbon fStes. Ascent of a balloon 



n 



Chapter XL 

Josephine an Empress. 

URING the whole month succeeding the 
coronation, Paris was surrendered to fetes, 
illuminations, and all manner of public rejoic- 
ing. One morning the empress found in her 
apartment, as a present from the municipality 
of the capital, a toilet service, with table, ewer, 
and basin of massive gold, wrought with most 
exquisite workmanship. An enormous balloon, 
in the form of the iniperial crown, brilliantly 
illuminated, was launched, the evening of the 
coronation, from Paris. The vast structure, 
weighing five hundred pounds, floated most 
majestically over the city, for a time the object 
of the gaze of a million of eyes, till, borne away 
by the wind toward the south, it disappeared. 
The next evening it fell near the city of Rome, 
nine hundred miles from Paris. " Sire," said 
a courtier, announcing the fact to Napoleon^ 
" your imperial crown has appeared in the twa 
great capitals of the worl 1 within the space ot 
twonty-four hours." 



AD. 1805.] Josephine a.n Empress. 233 



rhe Italians petition Napoleon to be their king. Crossing the Alpi 

As soon as Napoleon was crowned Emperor 
of France, the senators of the Italian Repnblio, 
over which he had been elected president, sen! 
da earnest petition that he would be crowned 
their king at Milan. Napoleon had rescued 
them from the hated dominion of the Austrians, 
and they regarded him as their greatest bene- 
factor. The emperor was in the habit of set- 
ting out on his various tours without any warn- 
ing. One evening, when the festivities of the 
baptism of the second son of Hortense had been 
kept up until midnight. Napoleon said quietly, 
upon retiring, " Horses at six for Italy." Jose- 
phine accompanied her husband upon this tour. 
The road bridging the Alps, which Napoleon 
subsequently constructed, was then but con- 
templated. It was only by a rugged and dan- 
gerous foot-path that the ascent of these awful 
barriers of nature could be surmounted. Two 
beautiful sedans had been constructed in Turin 
for the emperor and empress. The one for 
Napobon was lined with crimson silk, richlj 
ornamented with gold. Josephine's was trim 
meJ with blue satin, similarly ornamented with 
silver. The sedans were, however, but little 
used, except in places where walking was dan- 
jjerous, as the empress very much preferred 



234 Josephine. [A. D. 1805 

Happiness of Josephine. Views 5"om the Alp« 

leaning upon th(3 arm of her husband, and, in 
conversation with him, gazing upon the wild 
sublimities with which they were surrounded. 
This must have been to Josephine, independ- 
ently of those inward anxieties which weighed 
&i) heavily upon her heart, as delightful a jour- 
ney as a mortal can enjoy. All Europe was 
bowing in homage before her illustrious hus- 
band. He was in the possession cf pcwer such 
as the proudest of the Caesars might have en- 
vied. Illuminations, and triumphal arches, and 
enthusiastic acclamations met them ever} step 
of their way. Josephine was in the possession 
of every possible acquisition earth could give to 
make her happy, save only one — her husband 
was not a father. But Josephine forgot her so- 
licitudes in the exultant hours when her hus- 
band, from the pinnacles of the Alps, pointed 
out to her the glories of sunny Italy— the scenes 
of past perils, and conflict, and renown — the 
fields in which he had led the armies of France 
to the most brilliant victories. Napoleon was 
in fine spirits, and in these gilded hours he 
looked lovingly upon her, and they both were 
truly happy. It is difficult for the imagination 
to conceive any thing more attractive for a 
warm-hearted and an enthusiastic woman than 



A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress 235 

Splendid fete on the field of Marengo 

to pass over these most sublime of the barriers 
of nature, with Napoleon for a guide and a con- 
fiding friend. Pope Pius VII., who had formed 
^ very ?trong friendship for Josephine, accom- 
panied them as far as Turin. When parting, 
the empress made him a present of a beautiful 
vase of Sevres china, embellished with exquisite 
paintings of the coronation. 

From Turin Napoleon took Josephine to the 
field of Marengo. He had assembled upon that 
great battle plain, which his victory has immor- 
talized, thirty thousand troops, that Josephine 
might behold, in the mimicry of war, the dread- 
ful scenes which had deluged those fields in blood. 
It was the fifth of May, and a bright Italian sun 
shone down upon the magnificent pageant. A 
vast elevation was constructed in the middle of 
the plain, from which, seated upon a lofty throne, 
the emperor and empress overlooked the whole 
field. Napoleon decorated himself upon the oc- 
^asion with the same war-worn garments — the 
"laltered hat, the tempest-torn cloak, the coat of 
^aded blue, and the long cavalry saber which ha 
had worn amid the carnage and the terror of 
that awful day. Many of the veterans who had 
oeen engaged in the action were present. Napo- 
leon and Josephine came upon the ground in 8 



836 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 



A sublime spectacle. Triumphal entry into Milaa 

magnificent chariot, drawn by eight liorses. The 
moment he appeared upon the plain, one general 
shout of acclamation from thirty thousand ador^ 
mg voices rent the sky. After the mimic battle 
fvag ended, the soldiers defiled before the emperor 
and empress, while he conferred, upon those who 
had signalized themselves in the day of Marengo, 
the decorations of the Legion of Honor. The 
gorgeous uniform of the men, the rich capari- 
sons and proud bearing of the horses, the clangor 
of innumerable trumpets and martial bands, the 
glitter of gold and steel, the deafening thunders 
of artillery and musketry, filling the air with one 
incessant and terrific war ; the dense volumes 
of sulphurous smoke rolling heavily over the 
plain, shutting out the rays of an unclouded sun, 
all combined to produce an effect upon the spec- 
tators never to be effaced 

On the eighth of May, 1805, they made their 
triumphal entry into the city of Milan. While 
the whole city was absorbed in those fetes and 
rejoicings which preceded the coronation, the in- 
exhaustible mind of Napoleon was occupied in 
planning those splendid public buildings and 
those magnificent improvements which still com- 
memorate the almost superhuman energy of hit 
reign. The iron crown of Charlemagne, which 



A.D. 1805.J Josephine a.n Empress. 237 



The coronation. Napoleon again crowns himielf and Jo8«ipbina 

for a thousand years had pressed no brow, waa 
brought forth from its mausoleum to add the at- 
traction of deep poetic sentiment to the corona^ 
tion The ceremony took place on the twenty- 
sixth of May, in the Cathedral of Milan. The 
coronation was conducted with magnificence not 
even surpassed by the ceremony in Notre Dame. 
The empress first made her appearance, most 
gorgeously dressed, and glittering with dia- 
monds. She was personally loved by the IMilan- 
ese, and was greeted with the most enthusiastic 
acclamations. A moment after, the emperor 
himself entered, by another door. He was ar- 
rayed in imperial robes of velvet, purple, and 
gold, with the diadem upon his brow, and the 
iron crown and scepter of Charlemagne in his 
hands. Napoleon, as in the coronation at Paris, 
refused to receive the crown from the hands of 
another, but placed it himself upon his head, re 
peating aloud the historical words, "God has 
given it to me ; woe to him who touches it *■ 
Josephine then knelt upon an altar at his feel, 
and was again crowned by her husband. 

Josephine remained with the emperor in Mi- 
lan for nearly a month. He was busy night and 
iay in commencing improvements of the most 
najestic character. The Italians still look back 



238 JcsEFfliNE. [A.D. 1805 

Entertainments at Milan. Anecdote 

tc the reign of Napoleon as the brightest period 
in their history. The gay Milanese surren- 
dered themselves, during his stay, to one con- 
tinued scene of festivity. One day Josephine 
inil Napoleon had broken away from courtiers 
and palaces, and all the pageantry of state, and 
had retreated for a few hours to the retirement 
and solitude of a beautiful little island in one of 
the lakes in that vicinity. They entered the 
cabin of a poor woman. She had no idea of the 
illustrious character of her guests, and, in an- 
swer to their kind inquiries, opened to them the 
story of her penury, her toils, and her anxiety to 
bring up her three children, as the father often 
could obtain no work. " Now how much money, 
my good woman," inquired Napoleon, " would 
you like to have to make you perfectly happy ?" 
" Ah ! sir," she replied, " a great deal of money 
I should want." "But how much should you 
desire if you could have your wish." " Oh, sir, 
I should want as much as twenty louis (aboul 
eighty dollars) ; but what prospect is there of 
)ur ever having twenty louis?" The emperor 
^joured into her lap three thousand francs (about 
six hundred dollars) in glittering gold. For 8 
(ew moments she was speechless in bewilder- 
taont ; at length, trembling with emotion, she 



A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 231*' 

Rficepticn at Genoa. A floating garden 

said, " Ah ! sir — ah ! madam, this is a great deal 
too much. And yet you do not look as if you 
cou''- 1 sport with the feelings of a poor woman." 
•'No !" Josephine replied, in the most gentle ao- 
cents. " The money is all yours. With it you 
can now rent a piece of ground, purchase a flock 
of goats, and I hope you w^ill be able to bring up 
your children comfortably." 

From Milan the emperor and empress con- 
tinued their tour to Genoa. The restless mind 
of Napoleon w^as weary even of the swiftest speed 
of the horses, and though they drove from post 
to post with the utmost possible rapidity, so that 
it was necessary continually to throw water upon 
the glowing axle, he kept calling from his car- 
riage, " On ! on ! we do not go fast enough " 
Their reception at Genoa was unequaled by 
my thing they had before witnessed. In the 
beautiful bay a floating garden of orange-trees 
and rare plants and shrubbery was constructed 
in honor of Josephine. In the principal church of 
*' Genoa the Superb," the emperor and empress 
received the allegiance of the most prominent in- 
habitants. The fetes on this occasion almost 
surpassed the creations of fancy. The senses 
were bewildered by the fairy illusions thrown 
around the gorgeous spectacle. The city, with 



240 Josephine. [ A.D. 1805 



A gorgeous spectacle. Josephine's obedience to Napoleon 

all its picturesque beauty of embattled forts and 
oraggy shores — the serenity and brilliance of 
Ftaliau skies in May — the blue expanse of the 
Mediterranean— the marble palaces and glitter 
ins* domes which embellished the streets — the 
lovely bay whitened with sails — all combined 
to invest the gorgeous spectacle with attractions 
such as are rarely witnessed. From Genoa 
they proceeded to Paris, every where accompa- 
nied by the thunders of artillery and the blaze 
of illuminations. 

Josephine was not unfrequently under the 
necessity of taking journeys unaccompanied by 
the emperor. On such occasions the tireless 
mind of Napoleon arranged every particular 
with the utmost precision. A manuscript was 
placed in her hand, describing the route she was 
to take, the places at which she was to stop, 
the addresses or replies she was to make to 
public functionaries, the expenses she was to 
incur, and even the presents she was to make. 
On such excursions, Josephine every morning 
nfiost carefully studied her lesson for the day 
She took great pleasure in obeying his directions 
exactly, exposing herself to great inconvenien- 
ces rather than to allow herself to deviate in 
thfl slightest particular from the written dire<> 



A.D.1805.J Jose PHiNE A N Empress. 241 

Difficult road through the forest of Ardennes. 



tions. She was ever unwilling to listen to any 
suggestions for change. A very interesting il- 
lustration of her scrupulous adherence to man^ 
ascript instructions occurred in her journey to 
Liege 

Napoleon, in the directions given to Jose- 
phine, had marked out her route by a road 
through the forest of Ardennes. Napoleon had 
ordered that road to be constructed, and sup- 
posed that it was completed. It was, howev- 
er, only partially made, and it was considered 
quite unsafe to attempt to pass over it with car- 
riages. She inquired if it were possible to pass. 
Being told that it was possible, perhaps, but 
that the attempt would be attended with great 
difficulty and danger, she replied, '' Very well, 
then ; we will at least try." Some of the la- 
dies accompanying her entreated her to take 
another route. " No," she replied ; "Napoleon 
has requested me to take this road, and his 
wishes are my law." Josephine persevered in 
the attempt, and accomplished the passage 
through, though with very great difficulty. In 
many places the workmen on the road had to 
support the carriages with ropes and poles to 
prevent an overturn. It rained during much 
Qf the journey. Tosephine and her ladie? were 

O 



242 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. 

Josephine receives a lecture. Her mind well stored 

olten compelled to alight, and to walk for some 
distance nearly ankle deep in mud and water. 
Josephine endured all with the utmost good 
nature. She was cheered by the assurance 
that she was following the wishes of her hus- 
band. Many of her attendants, however, were 
excessively annoyed by the hardships they en- 
countered. The carriage of the first femme- 
de-chambre was actually overturned, and the 
irritated serving- woman could not restrain her 
expressions of impatience and displeasure. At 
last one of the distinguished ladies of the court 
took it upon herself to lecture the empress so 
roundly for her blind subservience to the direc- 
tions of Napoleon, that Josephine burst into 
tears. 

Josephine, by conversation, observation, and 
reading, was continually storing her mind with 
valuable information. In the various journeys 
she took, she was always accompanied by per- 
son.«s of intelligence, and who were well ac- 
quainted with the country. While traveling, 
she directed her conversation almost exclusively 
upon the scenes through which they were pass- 
ing, Every thing of interest was carefully 
treasured up in her memory, and if she learned 
any incident connected with the past fartunes 



A.D. 1805.] JobEi'HiNE AN Empress 243 

Her kindness to her attendants. Visits thp baths at Aix 



of any of the families of the ladies who were 
with her, she never failed to send a special mes- 
senger with the information, and to point out 
the places where such incidents occurred. She 
seemed thus to be continually studying for op- 
portunities of manifesting kind and delicate at- 
tentions to the ladies of her household. She 
thus secured a universality and a fervor of af- 
fection such as has rarely been attained. On 
these pleasure excursions, the restraints of the 
court were laid aside, and there were all the 
joyous commingling and affectionate familiari- 
ty w^hich prevail among intimate friends. 

Napoleon, aware of the vast influence which 
the pomp of regal state exerts upon the human 
mind, was very particular in his court in the 
observance of all the etiquette of royalty. Jo- 
sephine, however, was always disposed to es- 
cape from the exactions of the code ceremonial 
whenever she could do so with propriety. A 
curious instance of this occurred at Aix la 
Chapelle, where the empress was passing a few 
days for the benefit of the baths. One evenin;a 
sne was sitting, with her ladies around her, 
weary of the lassitude of a fashionable water- 
ing-place, when some one suggesteil Ihat, to 
while away an hour, they should visit a cele 



^44 Josephine. [A.D. 1S05 

Jos(!phlne and her ladies proceed on foot to visit the model of Paris. 



brated model of Paris, which was tlien on ex- 
hibition. The chevalier of honor was about to 
order the imperial carriages and the cortege, 
when Josephine, to Lis utter consternation, pro- 
posed that they should go on foot. She was 
sure, she said, that the citizens of Aix la Cha- 
pelle were so kindly disposed toward her, that 
there could be no possible danger. The chev- 
alier, as far as he dared to do, urged his remon- 
strances against such a breach of imperial deco- 
rum ; but the ladies of the court were all de- 
lighted with the plan of Josephine, and they 
set out on foot, a brilliant party of ladies and 
gentlemen, to visit the exhibition. As the citi- 
zens, of course, knew nothing about this unex- 
pected movement, there w^as no crowd in thj 
streets to impede their way, and they proceec- 
ed without any difficulty, and very pleasantly, 
to the place of their destination. But the in- 
telligence of the adventure of the court, so novel 
and so unprecedented, was immediately noised 
throughout the towm. From every section of 
the city, throngs, allured by c iriosity and K ve 
for Josephine, began to pour into the streets 
tlirough which they were to pass to see them 
return. The citizens occupying the dwellhigs 
and the shops which lined the streets, instant- 



A.D 1805. JosiPHiNE AN Empress. 245 

Enthusiasm of the people. The party return on foot 

ly, and as if by magic, illuminated their win- 
dows. A thousand hands were busy in the 
eager and love-incited toil. The party spent 
%n hour examining the beautiful model of tho 
metropolis, and then emerged again into the 
street. To their surprise, and not a little to 
their consternation, they found their path blaz- 
ing with illuminations. Their whole route was 
filled with a dense throng of men, women, and 
children, all eager to catch a glimpse of their 
beloved empress, and of the brilliant suite which 
accompanied her. 

The ladies recoiled from attempting the pas- 
sage on foot through such a crowd, and pro- 
posed sending for the carriages and escort 
Josephine, apprehensive that some accident 
might occur in attempting to drive the horses 
through such a dense mass of people, would not 
listen to the suggestion. '' Were any one to 
be injured," she said, " of these friends whom 
our imprudence has assembled, I never could 
forgive myself." Taking the arm of the chev- 
alier, she led the way through the crowd. The 
ladies all followed, each supported by the arm 
of some nobleman of the court. The populace 
respectfully opened liefore them, and closed up 
behind. The plumes, and diamonds, and ga) 



246 Josephine. [AD. 1805 

i^osephine's candor. Fond of breakfasting in the cpen Air 

attire of the court shone brilliantly in the blaze 
of light which was shed upon them from the il- 
luminated windows. The enthusiastic accla 
mations of the populace greeted the empress 
until she arrived, in perfect safety, at her resi- 
dence. As soon as she entered her saloon, with 
her accustomed frankness she thanked the 
chevalier for the advice which he had given, 
and confessed that, in not following it, she had 
been guilty of imprudence, which might have 
been attended by very serious consequences 

When traveling unaccompanied by the em- 
peror, she was fond of breakfasting in the open 
air, upon some green lawn, beneath the shade 
of venerable trees, or upon some eminence, 
where her eye could feast upon the sublimities 
of Nature, which are so attractive to every en- 
nobled mind. The peasantry, from a respectful 
distance, would look upon the dazzling specta- 
cle perfectly bewildered and awe-stricken. The 
service of silver and of gold, the luxurious ri- 
dinds, the gorgeous display of graceful female 
attire, and uniforms and liveries, all combined 
to invest the scene, in their eyes, with a splen- 
dor almost more than earthly. 

On one occasion, a mother's love and pride 
triumphed over even her scrupulous obediencf 



A..D. 1805.] Josephine an Km press. 247 

f %e presentation. Joeepbine's maternal sensitivenea*. 

to the wishes of Napoleon. Napoleon and Jo. 
sephine, accompanied by Eugene and a very 
magnificent retinue, were at Mayence. There 
was to be a grand presentation of the German 
princes to the emperor and empress. Eugene, 
the son of the empress, according to the laws 
of court etiquette, should have been included 
with Napoleon and Josephine in the presenta- 
tion. By some oversight, his name was omit- 
ted. As Josephine glanced her eye over the 
programme, she noticed the omission, and point- 
ed it out to Napoleon. As the arrangements had 
all been made by him, he was not a little piqued 
i!i finding himself at fault as to a point of eti- 
quette, and insisted upon following the pro- 
gramme. Josephine, ever ready to make any 
personal sacrifice to meet the wishes of Napo- 
leon, could not be induced to sacrifice the sensi- 
tive feelings of her son. " I had no desire," she 
said, " for the honors of coronation ; but, since 
r have been crowned, my son must be treated 
as the son of an empress." Napoleon yielded, 
not, however, with very good grace. 

Two of the princesses of Baden, on this occa- 
sion, accompanied Josephine to the opera. The 
evening air was chilly, and the empress, observ. 
ing that they were very thinly clad, spread over 



248 Josephine [A.D. 1805 

An expensive compliment. A delightful excursion 

the shoulders of each of them one of her rich 
white Cashmere shawls. These shawls were of 
the most costly texture, and had been purchased 
it an expense of several thousand dollars. The 
aext morning the elder of the princesses sent a 
note, full of complimentary terms, to Josephine, 
expressing their infinite obligation for her kind- 
ness, and stating that they would keep the 
shawls in remembrance of one they so greatly 
admired. 

On these journeys Napoleon was full of pleas- 
antry, and very agreeable. Josephine often 
spoke of this excursion to Mayence in particular 
as the most delightful that she had ever made 
with the emperor. They were met at every 
step on their route with the most enthusiastic 
testimonials of a nation's love and gratitude. 
And Napoleon had at this time conferred bene- 
fits upon France which richly entitled him to all 
this homage. In subsequent years, when intox- 
icated by the almost boundless empire he had 
obtained, and when, at a still later period, he 
was struggling, with the energies of despair, 
against Europe, in arms to crush him, he resort- 
ed to acts which very considerably irtipaired his 
good name. Josephine, in her journal during 
thi.s journey, speaks of the common, but errone- 



A.D. 180t'5.] JOSEIHINE AN Em PRESS 2\% 



Personal habits of Napoleon. He sleeps (/n the fio..d of battio. 



ous impression, that Napoleon could work con- 
stantly and habitually with very few hours do- 
voted to sleep. She says that this was an erro- 
neous impression. If the emporor rose at a very 
early hour in the morning, he would frequent- 
'y retire at nine o'clock in the evening. And 
when, on extraordinary occasions, he passed 
many nights together in almost sleepless activ- 
ity, he had the faculty of catching short naps 
at intervals in his carriage, and even on horse- 
back. After many days and nights of prepara- 
tion for some great conflict, he has been known 
even to fall asleep upon the field of battle, in the 
midst of all the horrors of the sanguinary scene. 
At the battle of Bautzen, for instance. Napoleon 
was extremely fatigued by the exertions and 
sleeplessness of the two preceding days and 
nights. He fell asleep several times when seat- 
ed on an eminence, overlooking the field of bat- 
tle, and which was frequently reached by the 
cannon balls of the enemy. Napoleon, at St 
Helena, when alluding to this fact* said that 
Nature had her rights, which could not be vio- 
lated with impunity ; and that he felt better pre- 
pared to issue fresh orders, or to consider the 
reports which were brought, when awaking 
from these momentary slumbers. Though Na 



250 Josephine. [A. D. 1805 

Napoleon's wonderful mental activity. Retirement at Malmaison 

»-'-"' eo 1 could not set at defiance the established 
s of our mental and physical nature, words 
€im hardly convey an adequate idea of the inde- 
fatigable activity of his mind, or of his extraor- 
dinary powers of enduring mental and bodily fa 
tigue. Few have ever understood better the art 
of concentrating the attention upon one thing at 
a time, ^ften, on his campaigns, after reading 
the dispatches, and dictating orders to one set 
of secretaries during the whole day, he would 
throw himself, for an hour, upon his sofa, in- 
stantly fall into the soundest sleep, and then, 
summoning to his presence a new relay of sec- 
retaries, would keep them incessantly occupied 
till morning. To keep himself awake on such 
occasions, he resorted to strong coffee. It was 
only under the pressure of great necessity that 
he thus overtasked his Herculean powers. 

Occasionally, when Napoleon was absent on 
his campaigns, Josephine would retire to Mal- 
oiaison, and become deeply interested in rural 
occupations. She had a large and very fine 
flock of merino sheep, and she took great pleas- 
ure in superintending their culture. A detach- 
ment of the imperial guard was, on such occa- 
sions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One 
evening the empress, sitting up till a later houi 



A.. D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 251 

Anecdote. InsLnictions to a lady respecting etiquette 



than usual, heard the soanJ of footsteps passing 
to and fro beneath her window. She sent for 
the officer of the guard, and inquired what it 
meant. lie informed her that it was the sentry, 
who was appointed to keep watch beneath her 
window all night. " Sir," she replied, " I ha\e 
no need of a night-guard. These brave soldiers 
have enough to suffer from the hardships of war 
when they are under the necessity of going to 
the field of battle. In my service they must 
have repose. I wish them here to have no sleep- 
less nights." 

It is said that rather a ludicrous occurrence 
took place in one of the cities of the Rhine, in 
reference to a visit which the emperor and em- 
pres.«5 were about to make to that place. One 
of the distinguished ladies u[ the city, who was 
anticipating the honor of a presentation, wrote 
to obtain from the master of the ceremonies 
instructions respecting the eticjuette to be ob- 
d'-^rved. The answer contained very minute 
directions, and was couched in terms which 
nonveyed a deep impression of their importajice. 
Among other things, it was stated that three 
courtesies were to be made ; one immediatel) 
upon entering the saloon, one in the middle of 
the room, and a third, en pi^'uuette^ when ha v. 



252 Josephine. [A.D.ISOrs 

The court at Cologne. Eji pirouette 

mg arrived within a few paces of the emperor 
and empress. The familiar signification of en 
pirouette is whirling the body around rapidly 
apon the toes of one foot, the other foot being 
rath r indecorously raised. The ladies assem- 
bled to study these instructions ; and though 
some of the young, the beautiful, and the grace- 
ful were not unwilling thus to display their 
lightness of limb, there were others wdio read 
en pirouette with consternation. The vast im- 
portance which Napoleon attached to every 
form of etiquette was well known. There was 
no alternative ; the fat and the lean, the tall 
and the short, the graceful and the awkward, 
all were to approach their majesties en pirou- 
ette, or to lose the honor of a presentation. 
" We have a fortnight for practice," said one 
of the ladies ; " let us prepare ourselves." For 
fifteen days all the drawing-rooms of Cologne 
seemed to be filled with dancing dervises. Ven- 
erable dowagers were twirling like opera girls; 
and not unfrequently measuring their portly 
length upon the carpet. E71 pirouette was the 
theme of every tongue, and the scene, morning, 
noon, and evening, in every ambitious saloon. 

On the evening of the arrival of the emperoi 
and empress, tiie same lady who had writteD 



A. D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 253 

An amusing misunderstanding. Josephine accused of extravagance 



thvi letter for instructions called upon one of 
the ladies of the court for still more precise di 
rections. She then learned that, in court phrase, 
tn pirouette simply indicated a slight inclina- 
tion of the body toward their majesties, accom- 
panying the courtesy. The intelligence was 
immediately disseminated through Cologne, to 
the great relief of some, and, probably, not a 
little to the disappointment of others. Jose- 
phine was exceedingly amused at the recital of 
this misunderstanding. . 

Josephine was often accused of extravagance 
Her expenditures were undoubtedly very great. 
She attached no value to money but as a means 
of promoting happiness. She was, perhaps, too 
easily persuaded to purchase of those who were 
ever urging upon her the most costly articles, 
and appealing powerfully to her sympathies to 
induce her to buy. It was difficult for Josc- 
pnine to turn a deaf ear to a tale of distress. 
Napoleon was ever ready to spend millions upon 
millions in great public improvements, but he 
was not willing to have any money wasted. 
Josephine gave away most liberally in charity, 
and the emperor, at times, complained a little 
ti the ^arge sums which escaped through hex 
hands. In replying oQce to a friend, who told 



^54 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 

Jueephiue is charged by Napoleon with indiscretloiL 

tier that she was deemed extravagant, she taid, 
" When I have money, you know how T em- 
ploy it. I give it principally to the unfortu 
Date, who solicit my assistance, and to the poor 
emigrants. But I will try to be more econom- 
ical in future. Tell the emperor so if you see 
him again. But is it not my duty to bestow 
as much charity as I can ?" 

On one occasion T^apoleon was much dis- 
pleased by hearing that Josephine had suffered 
General Lorges, the .commandant at Aix la 
Chapelle, a young and handsome man, to be 
guilty of the indiscretion of sitting upon the 
same sofa with the empress. He reproached 
her with much severity for permitting such in- 
decorum. Josephine explained the circumstan- 
ces. Instead of its being General Lorges who 
had thus violated the rules of courtly propriety, 
it was one of the aged and veteran generals of 
Napoleon's army, who, inured to the hardships 
of the camp, was entirely unacquainted with 
the politeness of courts. He had been present- 
ed to Josephine, and, without any conscious- 
ness of the impropriety of which he was guilty, 
immediately seated himself upon the same sofa 
with the empress. Josephine was unwilling to 
wound the feelings of the hcnest-heartod old 



A..D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 255 

The explanation. Marriage of Eugene. Ilappiness of Josephln* 

soldier, and permitted him to retain his seat 
until he withdrew. Napoleon was perfectly 
eatisfied with the explanation, and, upon re- 
ceiving it, manifested renewed indications of 
the affection and esteem with which he regard- 
ed the empress. 

About this time Josephine was informed ol 
the contemplated alliance between Eugene and 
the Princess-royal of Bavaria. She was soon 
summoned to Munich to attend their nuptials, 
and there again was united to those she so dear- 
ly loved. The bride of Eugene was in every 
respect worthy of him, and Josephine rejoiced 
over the happiness of her son. The victorious 
emperor and empress then returned to Paris, ac- 
companied by a crowd of princes from the vari- 
ous courts of Germany. Josephine was now 
upon the very summit of earthly grandeur 
Europe lay prostrate at the feet of her husband. 
Hortense was Queen of Holland. Eugene wa? 
Viceroy of Italy, and son-in-law to the King oi 
Bavaria. Napoleon, fixing his affections upon 
the eldest child of Hortense, appeared to have 
relinquished the plan of the divorce, and to have 
contemplated the recognition of this child — the 
brother of Louis Napoleon, now President of the 
French Republic — as the heic of his crown. The 



250 Josephine. [A.D. J805 



Josephine universally leloved. Her habit of journalizing 

embarrassment which had at times accompanied 
their interviews had consequently passed away. 
Napoleon was proud of Josephine, and often said 
that there was no woman in the world to be com- 
pared with her. The empress was happy. All 
France was filled with stories of her active be- 
nevolence and her sympathy with the sorrowful. 
Wherever she made her appearance, she was 
greeted with the acclamations of the most en- 
thusiastic attachment. 

Of the many tours which Josephine took with 
Napoleon, she frequently kept a journal, noting 
down the events of interest which occurred. 
The fragments of these journals, which have ap- 
peared before the public, beautifully exhibit the 
literary taste and the benevolence of heart of 
the empress. The following is an extract : 

" About two leagues from Bayonne the em- 
peror was presented with a spectacle worthy of 
hira. On the declivity of a mountain, gently 
scooped out in different parts of its descent, Ls 
pitched one of those camps which the foresight 
of the country has provided for its defenders. Tt 
is composed of seven handsome barrack:*, differ- 
ent in form and aspect, each isolated, surrounded 
with an orchard in full bearing, a weD stocked 
poultry -yard, and, at different distances, a great- 



A.r 180o».) Josephine an Empress. 2t^ 



Beautiful e^t^act from one of her joumais. 



er or less quantity of arable land, where a divers- 
ity of soil yields a variety of produce. One side 
of the mountain is wild, but picturesque, with 
rocks and plants. The other seems covered with 
rich tapestry, so varied and numerous are the 
plots of highly-cultivated ground. The summit 
is clothed with an ever-verdant forest. Down 
the center, in a deep channel, flows a limpid 
stream, refreshing and fertilizing the whole 
scene. On this spot, the veterans who occupy 
it gave a fete to the emperor which was at once 
military and rural. The wives, daughters, and 
little children of these brave men formed the 
most pleasing, as they were themselves the no- 
blest ornament of the festival. Amid piles of 
arms were seen beautiful shrubs covered with 
flowers, while the echoes of the mountain re- 
sounded to the bleating of flocks and the warlike 
strains of a soldiery intoxicated on thus receiv. 
ing their chief. The emperor raised this enthu- 
siasm to the highest pitch by sitting down at a 
table at once quite military and perfectly pas- 
toral. I dare not mention the attentions of whioU 
1 was the object They affected me deeply. J 
regarded them as proofs of that veneration which 
Krance has vowed to the emperor." 
The infamous Ferdinand of Spain, who wa 
K 



258 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 

Ferdinand of Spain. A picturesque scene 

then claiming the throne, in a disgraceful quar- 
rel with his equally infamous father, sent an 
embassador to Bayonne to meet the emperor 
Ferdinand, with the utmost servility, was court- 
ing the support of Napoleon. The embassador 
possessed, some leagues from Bayonne, an exten- 
sive farm, on which were bred numerous flocks 
of merinoes. " Thither," writes Josephine, '' un- 
der a plausible pretext, we were conducted to- 
day. After a feast of really rustic magnificence, 
we made the tour of the possession on foot. At 
the bottom of a verdant dell, surrounded on all 
sides by rocks, covered with moss and flowers, 
all of a sudden a picturesque cot appeared, 
lightly suspended on a projecting point of rock 
Around it were feeding seven or eight hundred 
sheep of the most beautiful breed. We could not 
restrain a cry of admiration. Upon the emper- 
or addressing some compliments to the embassa- 
dor, he declared that these flocks belonged to ma. 
* The king, my master,' he added, ' knows the 
t mpress's taste for rural occupations, and as thif 
species of sheep is little known in France^ and 
will constitute the principal ornament, and, con- 
sequently, wealth of a farm, he entreats her not 
to deprive herself of an offering at once so use- 
ful and so agreeable.' * Don Pedro,' replied the 



A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 259 

Routine of life Account thereof by a valet de chambre 

emperor, with a tone of severity, ' the empress 
can not accept a present save from the hand of 
a king, and your master is not yet one. Wait, 
before making your offering, till your own na- 
tion and J have decided.' " 

The ordinary routine of life with her, as em- 
press, was as follows. Constant, the valet de 
chambre of Napoleon, gives the following ac- 
count of the commencement of the day. "1 
had a regular order to enter the emperor's apart- 
ment at seven o'clock. When the empress 
passed the night there, it was a very unusual 
occurrence not to find the august spouses awake. 
The emperor commonly asked for tea or an in- 
fusion of orange-flowers, and rose immediately 
after. In the course of a few minutes the em- 
press rose also, and, putting on a loose morning- 
gowm, either read the journals while the emper- 
or dressed, or retired by a private access to he/ 
own apartments, but never without addressing 
«jme kind and condescending words to myself^' 

Josephine invariably commenced her moni 
inff toilet at nine o'clock. This occupied an 
hour, and then she passed into a saloon where 
she received those who had obtained the favor 
of a morning presentation. A great many pe- 
titions wxre presented her on such occasions. 



260 Josephine. [A.D. 1S05 

Morning occupations. Literary enjoyments. 

and, with unvarying kindness, she manifested 
great firmness in rejecting those which appeared 
unworthy of her support. These audiences oo 
oupied an hour, and then she met, at eleven 
o'clock, the most distinguished ladies ( f the 
court at the breakfast-table. Napoleon, entire- 
ly engrossed by those majestic plans he vv^aa 
ever conceiving and executing, usually break- 
fasted alone in his cabinet, very hastily, not al- 
lowing more than seven or eight minutes to be 
occupied by the meal. After breakfast, Jose- 
phine, with her ladies, took a short walk, if the 
weather was fair, or for half an hour played a 
game of billiards. The remainder of the morn- 
ing, until three o'clock, she passed in her apart- 
ment, v/ith her chosen female friends, reading, 
conversing, and embroidering. Josephine her- 
self was an admirable reader, and the book they 
were perusing was passed alternately from hand 
to hand. No works were read but those of real 
value. By common consent, all novels were 
banished from the circle, as Napoleon inveter- 
ately abominated every w=3rk of that kind. If 
he happened to find a novel in the hands of any 
of the attendants of the palace, he unhesitating- 
ly tossed it into the fire, and roundly lectured 
the reader upon her waste of time If Jose- 



A.D. 180«'5.] Josephine an Empretss. 261 



Confidential interviews. The drive. Dressing for dicnei 

phine had been a novel reader, she never could 
have acquired ti:at mental energy which ena* 
bled her to fill with dignity and with honor ev 
ery position she was called to occupy. 

Occasionally Napoleon would leave his cabi 
net and enter the apartment of the empress 
where the ladies were reading. His presence 
was ever cordially greeted, and, with great so- 
ciability, he would for a few moments converse 
with his friends, and then return to his work. 
Not unfrequently the emperor wished to confer 
with Josephine upon some subject of moment. 
A gentle tap from his hand at the door of pri- 
vate communication announced to the empress 
the summons, which she ever most joyfully 
obeyed. Occasionally these interviews were 
protracted for several hours, for the emperor 
had learned to repose great confidence in many 
matters upon the sound judgment of Josephine. 

At three o'clock the carriages were at the 
door, and Josephine, with her ladies, rode out. 
It was very seldom that Napoleon ()ould find 
til le to accompany them. On returning from 
the drive, she dressed for dinner. Napoleon at- 
tached much importance to this grand toilet, 
for he was fully aware of the influence of cos- 
fume upon thf". public mind, and was very fond 



262 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 



aecrcations of Napoleon. The dinner hour 

of seeing Josephine dressed with elegance and 
taste. It is reported that he not unfrequently 
recreated himself by entering her boudoir on 
such occasions, and suggesting the robe or th<» 
jewelry he would like to have her wear. Her 
wditing-women were not a little embarrassed 
by the manner in which his unskillful hands 
would throw about the precious contents of the 
caskets, and the confusion into which he would 
toss all the nameless articles of a lady's ward- 
robe. 

Dinner was appointed at six o'clock. It was^ 
however, served when Napoleon was ready to 
receive it. Not unfrequently, when much en- 
grossed with business, he would postpone the 
hour until nine, and even ten o'clock. The 
cook, during all this time, would be preparing 
fresh viands, that a hot dinner might be ready 
at a moment's warning. A chicken, for m- 
stance, was put upon the spit every fifteen min- 
utes. Napoleon and Josephine always dined io 
gother, sometimes alone, ncore frequently with 
a few invited guests. There was a grand mas* 
ter of ceremonies, w^ho, on all such occasions, in- 
formed the grand marshal of the necessary ar- 
rangements, and of the seat each guest was tc 
occupy. 



A..D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 262 

Dining in state. Evening p&rtioe 

Occasionally the emperor and empress dined 
in state. Rich drapery canopied the table, whicli 
was placed upon a platform, slightly elevated, 
with two arm-chairs of gorgeous workmanship, 
one for Napoleon, and the other, upon his left, 
for Josephine. Other tables were placed upon 
the floor of the same room for illustrious guests 
The grand marshal announced to the emperor 
when the preparations for them to enter the 
room was completed. A gorgeous procession of 
pages, marshals, equeries, and chamberlains ac 
companied the emperor and empress into the 
hall. Pages and stewards performed the sub- 
ordinate parts of the service at the table, in 
bringing and removing dishes, while noblemen 
of the highest rank felt honored in minister- 
ing to the immediate w^ants of their majesties. 
Those who sat at the surrounding tables were 
served by servants in livery. 

Josephine passed the evening in her apart- 
ment almost invariably with a party either of 
invited guests, or of distinguished ministers and 
officers of the empire, who, having called on bus- 
iness, were awaiting the pleasure of Napoleon. 
There were frequent receptions and levees, which 
filled the saloons of the palace with a brilliant 
throng. At midnight all company retired, and 



264 



Josephine. [A. D. 1805 



Josephine's love of solitude. 



Hunting paitie* 



the palace was still. Josephine loved the silence 
of these midnight hours, when the turmoil of 
tlie day had passed, and no sounds fell upon hei 
ear but the footfalls of the sentinel in the court* 
yard below. She often sat for an hour alone, 
surrendering herself co the luxury of solitude 
and of undisturbed thought. 

Such was the general routine of the life of 
Josephine while ^raprecss. She passed from one 
to another of the various royal residences, equal- 
ly at home in all. At the Tuilleries, St. Cioud, 
Versailles, Rambouillet, and Fontainebleau, life 
was essentially the same. Occasionally, at the 
rural palaces, hunting parties were formed for 
the entertainment of distinguished guests from 
abroad. Napoleon himself iJok but little per- 
sonal interest in sports of this kind. On such 
ocoasions, the empress, with her ladies, usually 
rode in an open caiecne, und a pic-nic was pro 
vided, to be spread on the ^reen turf, beneatl. 
the boughs of the forest. Once a terrified, pant- 
ing stag, exhausted with the long chase, whet= 
the hounds in full bay were just ready to spring 
upon him, by a strange instinct sought a retreat 
beneath the carriage in which the gentle heart 
of Josephine was throbbing. The appeal was 
not in vain, Josephine plead for the life of the 



A.D.1805.] Josephine an Empress. 265 

The protected stag. Letter from Josephine to Caroliiift 

rneek-eyed, trembling suppliant. To mark it 
as her favorite, and as living under the shield 
of her protection, she had a silver collar put 
around its neck. The stag now roamed its na- 
tive glades unharmed. No dog was permitted 
b) molest it, and no sportsman would injure a 
protege of Josephine. Pier love was its talis- 
man. 

The following letter, which at this time she 
wrote to Caroline, the sister of Napoleon, who 
had married Murat, will show the principles, in 
the exercise of which Josephine won to herself 
the love of all hearts. 

" Our glory, the glory of woman, lies in sub- 
mission ; and if it be permitted us to reign, our 
empire rests on gentleness and goodness. Your 
husband, already so great in the opinion of the 
world through his valor and exploits, feels as if 
he beheld all his laurels brought to the dust on 
appearing in your presence. You take a pride 
in humxbling him before your pretensions ; and 
tlie title of being the sister of a hero is, with 
jou, reason for believing yourself a heroine. Be- 
lieve me, my sister, that character, with the 
qualities which it supposes, becomes us not. 
Let us rejoice moderately in the glory of our 
husbands, and find our glory in softening thei? 



26r> Josephine. [ A.D. 1805 

Joeephine's desire to accompany Napoleon. 

manners, and leading the world to pardon their 
deeds. Let us merit this praise, that the nation^ 
while it applauds the bravery of our husbands, 
may also commend the gentJeness bestowed by 
Providence on their wives to temper their brave- 
ry." 

The palace ever seemed desolate when Napo- 
leon was absent, and Josephine was always so- 
licitous to accompany him upon his tours. Na- 
poleon loved to gratify this wish, for he prized 
most highly the companionship of his only con- 
fidential friend. Upon one occasion, when he 
had promised to take the empress with him, cir- 
cumstances arose demanding special speed, and 
he resolved to set out secretly without her. Ho 
ordered his carriage at one o'clock in the morn- 
ning — an hour in which he supposed she would 
be most soundly asleep. To his amazement, 
just as he had stepped into his carriage, Jose- 
phine, in all the dishabille of her night-dress, 
with some slight drapery thrown over her person, 
and without even stockings upon her feet, threw 
herself into his arms. Some noise had at the 
moment awoke her, she caught an intimation of 
what was going on, and, without a moment's 
thought, sprang from her bed, threw over her a 
oloak, rushed down stairs, and burst into the 



A..D. 1805.J Josephine an Empress. 207 

Anecdote. Visit to Spain. Napoleon's star 

carriage. Napoleon fondly embraced her, rolled 
her up warmly in his own capacious traveling 
pelisse, gave orders for suitable attendants to 
fallow with the wardrobe of the empress, and 
the horses, with lightning speed, darted from the 
court-yard. " I could sooner," Napoleon would 
jocosely say, " transport the whole artillery of a 
division of my grand army, than the bandboxes 
of Josephine's waiting- women." 

The visit which Josephine made with Napo- 
leon to Spain gave her such an insight into the 
Spanish character, that she looked with much 
alarm upon his endeavor to place one of his broth- 
ers upon the Spanish throne. *' Napoleon," said 
she one day to her ladies, " is persuaded that he 
is to subjugate all the nations of the earth. He 
cherishes such a confidence in his star^ that 
should he be abandoned to-morrow by family 
and allies, a wanderer, and proscribed, he would 
support life, convinced that he should triumph 
over all obstacles, and accomplish his destin} 
by realizing his mighty designs. Happily, we 
fhall never have an opportunity of ascertaining 
whether I am right. But of this you may rest 
assured. Napoleon is more courageous morally 
than physically. I know him better than any 
one else does. He believes hinself predestinat 



268 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 

Lnergy of Napoleon. The Spanish cancpaiga 

ed, and would support reverses with as much 
calmness as he manifests when confronting dan- 
ger on the field of battle." 

Little did Josephine imagine, when uttering 
those sentiments, that her proud nusband, before 
whose name the world seemed to tremble, was 
to die in poverty and imprisonment on the most 
barren island of the ocean. 

The astounding energy of Napoleon was con- 
spicuously displayed about this time in his Span- 
ish campaign. He had placed Joseph upon the 
throne of Spain, and had filled the Peninsula 
with his armies. The Spaniards had every 
where risen against him, and, guided by En- 
glish councils, and inspirited by the tremendous 
energy of English arms, they had driven Joseph 
from his capital, had massacred, by the rage of 
the mob, thousands of French residents who 
were dwelling in the Spanish cities, and were 
rapidly driving the French army over the Pyr- 
enees. Napoleon had but just returned from 
the treaty of Tilsit when he was informed of 
this discouraging state of affairs. 

He immediately, without a moment allowed 
for repose, set out for Spain. Josephine earnest- 
ly entreated permission to accompany the em- 
peror. She assured him that she was fully 



A.D. 1S05.] Josephine an Empress. 269 

Josephine left at St. Cloud. Enthusiastic greeting of Napoleon 

aware of th^ difficulties, fatigue, and peril she 
must encounter, but that most cheerfully could 
she bear them all for the sake of being with 
him She said that she should neither feel hun- 
ger nor cold, nor the need of repose, il she could 
bu* be by the side of her husband, and that all 
the privations of the camp would be happiness 
when shared with one who was all the world to 
her. Napoleon was deeply moved by this exhibi- 
tion of her love, but, aware of the incessant ao 
tivity w^ith which it would be necessary for hir^ 
to drive by night and by day, he firmly but kind- 
ly denied her request. Josephine wept bitterly 
as they parted. 

One morning, early in November, 1808, the 
glittering cavalcade of the emperor, at the ful 
gallop, drove into the encampment of the retreat- 
ing French at Vittoria. The arrival of an angel, 
commissioned from heaven lo their aid, could not 
have inspired the soldiers with more enthusiasm. 
The heavens rang with the shouts of the might) 
hast, as they greeted their monarch with cries of 
'* Vive I'Empereur !'* Not one moment was lost. 
Napcleon placed himself at the head of his con- 
centrated army, and turning them, now inspir- 
ited with the utmost confidence, against the fees 
before whom they had been retreating, with thf 



270 Josephine. [A.D.1805 

Wonderful success of Napoleon, Alliance against him 



resistlessness of an avalanche verwhelmed the 
Spanish forces. Wherever he appeared, resist- 
ance melted away before him. In the pride of 
achievements almost miraculous, he marched 
into Madrid, and there, in the capital uf Spam, 
re-established his fallen throne. But he tarried 
not there an hour for indulgence or repose. The 
solid columns of the English army, under Sir 
John Moore, were still in Spain. Napoleon 
urged his collected forces, with all the energy 
which hatred could inspire, upon his English 
foes, and the Britons, mangled and bleeding, 
were driven into their ships. The conqueror, 
feeling that he was indeed the man of destiny, 
looked for a moment complacently upon Spain, 
again in subjection at his feet, and then, with 
the speed of the whirlwind, returned to Jose- 
phine at St. Cloud, having been absent but lit- 
tle more than two months. 

In the mean time, while Napoleon was far 
away with his army, upon the other side of the 
Pyrenees, Russia, Sweden, and Austria thought 
it a favorable moment to attack him in his rear. 
They brought no accusations against tlie em 
peror, they issued no proclamation of war, but 
secretly and treacherously conspired to march, 
with all the strength of their collected armies, 



A.D. 1805.] Josephine AN liiM PRESS. 271 

His indignation roused. Austria violates the treaty, 

upon the unsuspecting emperor. It was an al- 
lian'^e of the kings of Europe against Napoleon, 
because he sat upon the throne, not by heredi- 
tary descent, the only recognized divine right, 
out by the popular vote. The indignation of 
the emperor, and of every patriotic Frenchman; 
had been roused by the totally unjustifiable, but 
bold and honest avowal of England, that peace 
could only be obtained by the wresting of the 
crown from the brow of Napoleon, and replac- 
ing it upon the head of the rejected Bourbon. 

The emperor had been at St. Cloud but a short 
time, when, early one spring morning, a cour- 
ier came dashing into the court-yard of the pal- 
ace at his utmost speed, bringing the intelligence 
to Napoleon that Austria had treacherously vi- 
olated the treaty of peace, and, in alliance with 
Russia, Sweden, and England, was marching 
lier armies to invade the territory of P'rance. 
The emperor, his eye flashing with indignation, 
hastily proceeded to the apartment of the em- 
press with the papers communicating the intel« 
ligence in his hand. Josephine was asleep, hav- 
ing but just retired. He approached her bed, 
and, awaking her from somd slumber, r^^.qucst- 
ed her to be ready in two hours to accompany 
him to Germany. " You have played the paif 



272 Josephine. IA.D.1805 

Promptness of Josephine. Kindness of Napoleon. Their route 

•jf an empress," said he, pla3^fully, " long enough. 
You must now become again the wife of a gen- 
eral. I leave immediately. Will you accom- 
pany me to Strasburg ?" This was short no- 
tice, but, with the utmost alacrity, she obeyed 
the joyful summons. 

She was so accustomed to the sudden move- 
ments of the emperor that she was not often 
taken by surprise. Promptness was one of the 
most conspicuous of her manifold virtues. " I 
have never," she has been heard to say, " kept 
any one waiting for me half a minute, when to 
be punctual depended upon myself. Punctual- 
ity is true politeness, especially in the great." 

The emperor was in glowing spirits. He had 
no doubt that he should be entirely victorious, 
and Josephine was made truly happy by that 
suavity and those kind attentions which he in 
this journey so signally displayed. Their routo 
conducted them through some of the most beau- 
tiful and fertile valleys of France. Every where 
around them they saw the indications of pros 
perity and happiness. Napoleon was in the 
height of glory. The most enthusiastic accla- 
mations of love and homage greeted the emper- 
or and empress wherever the panting steeds 
which drew them rested for a moment. As 



A-.D 1805.) J )SfcrHijVE an Empress. 273 

Effecte of the conscription. Napoleon env^ruragea marriage* 



the} stopped for a new relay of horses in one of 
the little villages of Lorraine, Josephine beheld 
a peasant woman kneeling upon the steps of 
the village, church, with her countenance bathed 
in tears. The aspect of grief ever touched the 
kind heart of the empress. She sent for the poor 
woman, and inquired into the cause of her grief. 

^' My poor grandson, Joseph," said she, " is 
included in the conscription, and, notwithstand- 
ing all my prayers, he must become a soldier. 
And more than this, his sister Julie was to have 
been married to Michael, a neighbor's son, and 
now he refuses to marry her because Joseph is in 
the conscription. And should my son purchase 
a substitute for poor Joseph, it would take all 
his money, and he would have no dowry to give 
Julie. And her dowry was to have been a hun- 
dred and twenty dollars." 

" Take that," said the emperor, presenting 
the woman with a purse. " You will find 
enough who will be ready to supply Joseph's 
place for that amount. I want soldiers, and, 
for thai purpose, must encourage marriages.** 
Josenhine was so much interested in the adven- 
ture that, as soon as she arrived at Strasburg, 
she sent a valuable bridal present to Julie. The 
good woman's prayers were answered. Froir 

S 



274 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 

The battle at Ulm. Napoleon's advice to the Emperor ol Austria 

Strasburg Josephine returned to Paris, whila 
Napoleon pressed on to encounter the combined 
armies of Austria and Russia in the renowm^ 
campaign of Wagram. 

It was in 1805, some years before the eventa 
we have just described, that Napoleon, with his 
enthusiastic troops, embarked in the celebrated 
campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz. At Ulm he 
surrounded thirty thousand of his foes, and al- 
most without a skirmish compelled them to 
lay down their arms. "Your master," said he 
to the Austrian generals, as, almost dying with 
mortification, they surrendered their swords, 
" your master wages against me an unjust war. 
I say it candidly, I know not for what I am 
fighting. I know not what he desires of me 
Pie has wished to remind me that I was once a 
soldier. I trust he will find that I have not for- 
gotten my original avocation. I will, however, 
give one piece of advice to my brother, the Em- 
peror of Austria. Let him hasten to make 
peace. This is the moment to remember thai 
there are limits to all empires, however powerful 
The idea that the house of Lorraine may come 
to an end should inspire him with distrust of 
fortune. I want nothing on the Continent. J 
desire shipSy colonies, and commerce. Theii 



A..D. 1805.] J U S E P U I N E AN E M J' R E s s 276 



His march down the Danube. Anxiety cf JosepLine- 

acquisition would be as advantageous to you ag 
to me." 

From Ulm, Napoleon, with two hundred thoo- 
sand men, flushed with victory, rushed like a 
tempest down the valley of the Danube, driving 
the terrified Austrians before him like chaff^ 
swept by the whirlwind. Ten thousand bomb- 
shells were rained down upon the roofs of Vi- 
enna, till the dwellings and the streets were 
deluged with the blood of innocence, and then 
the gates were thrown open for the entrance of 
the conqueror. Alexander, the Emperor of all 
the Russias, was hastening down from the North, 
with his barbarian hordes, to aid the beleaguered 
city. Napoleon tarried not at Vienna. Fear- 
lessly pushing on through the sleet and the hai 
of a Northern winter, he disappeared in the dis- 
tance from the eyes of France. Austria, Swe- 
den, Russia, were assembling their innumerable 
legions to crush him. He was far from home, 
in a hostile country. Rumors that his rashness 
had led to his ruin began to circulate through- 
out Europe. 

Josephine was almost disti acted with anxiety 
respecting her husband. She knew that a tci- 
rible battle was approaching, in which he wa^- 
to encounter fearful odds. The most gloumv 



276 Josephine. [AD. 1805 

Arrival of a courier. His utter exhaustion 

forebodings pervaded Paris and all France. 
Several days had passed, during which no Intel- 
ligence whatever had been received from the 
distant army. Ominous whispers of defeat and 
rain filled the air. The cold blasts of a Decem» 
ber night were whistling around the towers of 
St. Cloud, as J-osephine and a few of her friends 
v/ere assembled in the saloon, anxiously await- 
ing tidings from Napoleon. It was no time for 
hilarity, and no one attempted even to promote 
festive enjoyment. The hour of nine o'clock 
nad arrived, and yet no courier appeared. All 
hopes of any tidings on that day were relin- 
quished. Suddenly the clatter of iron hoofs was 
heard as a single horseman galloped into the 
court-yard. Josephine almost fainted with emo- 
tion as she heard the feeble shout, ^' Victory — 
Austerlitz !" She rushed to the window and 
threw it open. The horse of the courier had 
fallen dead upon the pavement, and the exhaust- 
ed rider, unable to stand, was half reclining b} 
his side. In the intensity of her impatience, 
Josephine rushed down the stairs and into the 
<3ourt-yard, followed by all her ladies. The 
faithful messenger was brought to her in the 
arms of four men. He presented to the empress 
.. blurred and blotted line, which the omoeroi 



A .D 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 277 

Battle of Austerlitz. Moustache the Mamclnka 

had written amid the thunder and the smoke, 
the uproar and the carnage of the dreadful daj 
of Austerlitz. As soon as Napoleon saw the 
field covered with the slain, and the routed ar- 
mies of his foes flying in dismay before thoir 
triumphant pursuers, in the midst of all the hor- 
rors of that most horrible scene, he turned the 
energies of his impetuous mind from the hot 
pursuit to pen a line to his faithful Josephine, 
announcing the victory. The empress, with 
tears almost blinding her eyes, read the billet 
where she stood, by the light of a torch which an 
attendant had brought her. She immediateU 
drew from her finger a valuable diamond ring, 
and presented it to the bearer of the joyful mes- 
sage. The messenger was Moustache the 
Mameluke, who had accompanied Napoleon 
from Egypt, and who was so celebrated for the 
devotion of his attachment to the emperor. H( 
had ridden on horseback one hundred and fift} 
miles within twelve hours. 

Napoleon was exceedingly sensitive to an} 
apparent want of affection or attention on the 
[)art of Josephine. A remarkable occurrence^ 
illustrative of this sensitiveness, took place on 
his return from his last Austrian campaign. 
When he arrived at Munich, where he. was do- 



278 Josephine. [A.D, 1805. 

Sensitiveness of Napoleon. His unreasonaoie anger 

layed for a short time, he dis[.atched a courier 
to Josephine, informing her that he would be at 
Fontainebleau on the evening of the twenty-sev- 
siith, and expressing a wish that the court shouU 
be assembled there to meet him. He, however, 
m his eagerness, pressed on with such unantici- 
pated speed, that he arrived early in the morn- 
ing of the twenty-sixth, thirty-six hours earlier 
than the time he had appointed. He had actu- 
ally overtaken his courier, and entered with him 
the court-yard at Fontainebleau. Very unreas- 
onably annoyed at finding no one there to receive 
him, he said to the exhausted courier, as he was 
dismounting from his horse, " You can rest to- 
morrow ; gallop to St. Cloud, and announce my 
arrival to the empress." It was a distance of 
forty miles. Napoleon was very impatient all 
the day, and, in the evening, hearing a carriage 
enter the court-yard, he eagerly ran down, as 
was his invariable custom, to greet Josephine 
To his great disappointment, the carriage con 
tainod only some of her ladies. " And where h 
the empress ?" he exclaimed, in surprise. " We 
have preceded her by perhaps a quarter of an 
hour,'' they replied. The emperor was now in 
veiy ill humor. " A very happy arrangement," 
said he, sarcastically ; and, turning upon hU 



A D 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 279 

IrrivaJ of Josephine. Napoleon 9 confession. The reconcUiatioBi 

heel, he ascended to the little library, where he 
had been busily employed. 

Soon Josephine arrived. Napoleon, hearing 
the carriage enter the court, coldly asked who 
had come. Being informed that it was the em- 
pr )ss, he moved not from his seat, but went on 
very busily with his writing. The attendants 
were greatly surprised, for he never before had 
been known to omit meeting the empress at her 
carriage. Josephine, entirely unconscious of 
any fault, and delighted with the thought of 
again meeting her husband, and of surprising 
him in his cabinet, hastened up stairs and en- 
tered the room. Napoleon looked up coldly from 
his papers, and addressed her with the chilling 
salutation, " And so, madame, you have come 
at last ! It is well I was just about to set out 
for St. Cloud." Josephine burst into tears, and 
stood silently sobbing before him. Napoleon was 
conquered. His own conscience reproved him 
for his exceeding injustice. He rose from hia 
feat, exclaiming, "Josephine, I am wrong; for. 
give me ;" and, throwing his arms around hei 
aeck, embraced her most tenderly. The recon- 
ciliation was immediate and perfect, for the gen« 
tie spirit of Josephine could retain no resent- 
ment 



280 JoSLrHINE. [A.D. lSO£ 

Majjoleon's taste for dress. The young sailor 

Napoleon had a very decided taste in refer- 
ence to Josephine's style of dress, and her only 
ambition was to decorate her person in a inan» 
aer which would be agreeable to him. On thij - 
oocasion she retired very soon to dress for din« 
aer. In about half an hour she reappeared^ 
dressed with great elegance, in a robe of white 
satin, bordered with eider down, and with a 
wreath of blue flowers, entwined with silver 
sars of corn, adorning her hair. Napoleon rose 
to meet her, and gazed upon her with an expres- 
sion of great fondness. Josephine said, with a 
smile, " You do not think that I have occupied 
too much time at my toilet ?" Napoleon point- 
ed playfully to the clock upon the mantel, which 
indicated the hour of half past seven, and, taking 
the hand of his wife, entered the dining-room. 

Though Napoleon often displayed the weak- 
nesses of our fallen nature, he at times exhibit' 
ed the noblest traits of humanity. On one oo- 
casion, at Boulogne, he was informed of a yt un§ 
English sailor, a prisoner of war, who had es 
saped from his imprisonment in the interior ol 
France, and had succeeded in reaching the coast 
near that town. He had secretly construcled, 
in an unfrequented spot, a little skiff, of the 
blanches and bark of trees, in w hich fabric, al- 
most as frafjiie as tho ark of bulrushes, he was 



/l.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 281 



His fearlessness. Napoleon s magnanimity 

intending to float out upon the storm-swept 
channel, hoping to be picked up by some En- 
glish cruiser and conveyed home. Napoleon 
was struck with admiration in view of the fear- 
lessness of the proje^^/t, and, sending for the young 
man, questioned him very minutely respecting 
the motives which could induce him to under- 
take so perilous an adventure. The emperor 
expressed some doubt whether he would really 
have ventured to encounter the dangers of the 
ocean in so frail a skiff. The young man en- 
treated Napoleon to ascertain whether he was 
in earnest by granting him permission to carry 
his design into execution. " You must doubt- 
less, then," said the emperor^ " have some mis- 
tress to revisit, since you are so desirous to re- 
turn to your country ?" " No !" replied the 
sailor, " 1 wish to see my mother. She is aged 
and infirm." The heart of the emperor wa 
touched. "You shall see her," he energetical- 
ly and promptly replied. He immediately gave 
orders that the young man should be thorough 
ij furnished with all comforts, and sent in a 
cruiser, with a flag of truce, to the first British 
vessel which could be found. He also gave the 
young man a purse for his mother, saying, " She 
must be no common parent who can have trained 
up «?o affectionate and dutiful a son." 



282 JosLPHiNE. jAD, 1807 

Wapoleon's proepecttve heir. Death of the child 



Chapter XII. 
The Divorce and last Days. 

ALLUSION has already been mad^ to the 
strong attachment with which Napoleon 
cherished his httle grandchild, the son of Hor- 
tense and of his brother Louis. The boy was 
extrernley beautiful, and developed all those 
noble and spirited traits of character which pe- 
culiarly delighted the emperor. Napoleon had 
apparently determined to make the young prince 
his heir. This was so generally the under- 
standing, both in France and in Holland, that 
Josephine was quite at ease, and serene days 
dawned again upon her heart. 

Early in the spring of 1807, this child, upon 
wljom such destinies were depending, then five 
years of age, was seized suddenly and violently 
i^'ith the croup, and in a few hours died. The 
blow fell upon the heart of Josephine with most 
appalling power. Deep as was her grief at the 
iijss of the child, she was overwhelmed with 
uncontrollable anguish in view of those fearful 
^>onsequencos which she shuddered to contem- 



A.D. i»07.] Divorce and last Days. 283 

Grandeiir of Napoleon. Struggle in his bosota 

plate. She knew that Napoleon loved hei 
fondly, but she also knew the strength of his 
dnribition, and that he would make any sacrifice 
of his affection, which, in his view, would sub- 
serve the interests of his power and his glory. 
(7or three days she shut herself up in her room, 
and was continually bathed in tears. 

The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napo- 
leon when he was far from home, in the midst 
of the Prussian campaign. He had been vic- 
torious, almost miraculously victorious, over 
his enemies. He had gained accessions of pow- 
er such as, in the wildest dreams of youth, he 
had hardly imagined. All opposition to his 
sway was now apparently crushed. Napoleon 
had become the creator of kings, and the proud- 
est monarchs of Europe were constrained to do 
his biddinsr. It was in an hour of exultation 
that the mournful tidings reached him. He 
sat down in silence, buried his face in his hands; 
and for a long time seemed lost in the most 
painful musings. He was heard mournfully 
and anxiously to repeat to himself again anc 
again, " To whom shall I leave all this ?" The 
struggle in his mind between his love for Jose- 
phine and his ambitious desire to found a new 
dynasty, and to transmit his name and fame 



284 Josephine. '^A.D. 1807 

Dejection of Napoleon. His energy. Grief of Josephine 

CO all posterity, was fearful. It was manifest 
in Ms pallid c)ieek, in his restless eye, in tne 
loss of appetite and of sleep. But the stern 
will of Bonaparte was unrelenting in its pur- 
poses. With an energy which the world has 
Tiever seen surpassed, he had chosen his part. 
It was the purpose of his soul — the purpose be- 
fore which every thing had to bend — to acquire 
the glory of making France the most illustri- 
ous, powerful, and happy nation earth had ever 
seen. For this he was ready to sacrifice com- 
fort, ease, and his sense of right. For this he 
was ready to sunder the strongest ties of affeo 
tion. 

Josephine knew Napoleon. She was fully 
aware of his boundless ambition. With almost 
insupportable anguish she wept over the death 
of this idolized child, and, with a trembling 
heart, awaited her husband's return. Myste- 
rious hints began to fill the journals of the c(!n» 
templated divorce, and of the alliance of Napo^ 
leon with various princesses of foreign courts. 

In October, 1807, Napoleon returned frunk 
Vienna. He greeted Josephine with the great- 
est kindness, but she soon perceived that his 
mind was ill at ease, and that he was ponder- 
ing the fearful question. He appeared sad and 



A.D. 1807,' Divorce and last Days. 285 

Her forebodings. Napoleon absents himself from her society 

embarrassed. He had frequent private inter- 
views with his ministers. A general feeling 
of constraint pervaded the court. Napoleon 
scarcely ventured to look upon his wife, as if 
ipprehensive that the very sight of one whom 
ae had loved so well might cause him to weaver 
ir his firm purpose. Josephine was in a state 
of the most feverish solicitude, and yet was 
compelled to appear calm and unconstrained 
As yet she had only fearful forebodings of her 
impending doom. She watched, with most ex- 
cited apprehension, every movement of the em- 
peror's eye, every intonation of his voice, every 
sentiment he uttered. Each day some new 
and trivial indication confirmed her fears. Her 
husband became more reserved, absented him- 
self from her society, and the private access be- 
tween their apartments was closed. He now 
seldom entered her room, and whenever he did 
so, he invariably knocked. And yet not one 
word had passed between him and Josephine 
upon the fearful subject. Whenever Josephine 
heard the sound of his approaching footsteps, 
the fear that he was coming with th(j terriblf 
announcement of separation immediately caused 
such violent palpitations of the heart thar it 
was with the utmost difficulty she could tottor 



286 Josephine. [A.D. 180/ 



Anguish of Napoleon. Difficulty in selecting a bride 

across the floor, even when supporting herself 
by leaning against the walls, and catching at 
tlio articles of furniture. 

The months of October and Novemter passe<i 
away, and, while the emperor was discussing 
with his cabinet the alliance into which he 
should enter, he had not yet summoned courage 
to break the subject to Josephine. The evi- 
dence is indubitable that he experienced intense 
anguish in view of the separation, but this did 
not influence his iron will to swerve from its 
purpose. The grandeur of his fame and the 
magnitude of his power were now such, that 
there was not a royal family in Europe which 
would not have felt honored in conferring upon 
him a bride. It was at first contemplated that 
he should marry some princess of the Bourbon 
family, and thu& add to the stability of his 
throne by conciliating the Royalists of France 
A princess of Saxony was proposed. Some 
weighty considerations urged an alliance wilb 
the majestic empire of Russia, and some advaa- 
oes were made to the court of St. Petersburgh, 
liaving in view a sister of the Emperor Alexan- 
der. It was finally decided that proposals should 
be made to the corrt of Vienna for iMaria Lou 
isa, daughter of the Emperor of Austria. 



A.D.1809.] Divorce AND LAST Davs. 287 



A silent dinner at Fontainebleau. 



At length the fata' day arrived for the an- 
nouncement to Josephine. It was the last daj 
of November, 1809. The emperor and empress 
dinod at Fontainebleau alone. She seems tc 
hav3 had a presentiment that her doom was 
sealed, for all that day she had been in her re- 
tired apartment, weeping bitterly. As the din- 
ner-hour approached, she bathed her swollen 
eyes, and tried to regain composure. They sat 
down at the table in silence. Napoleon did not 
speak. Josephine could not trust her voice to 
utter a word. Neither ate a mouthful. Course 
after course was brought in and removed un- 
touched. A mortal paleness revealed the an- 
guisn of <jq,ch heart. Napoleon, in his embar- 
rassnient, mechanically, and apparently uncon- 
sciously, struck the edge of his glass with his 
knife, while lost in thought. A more melan- 
choly meal probably was never witnessed. The 
attendants around the table seemed to catch the 
infection, and moved softly and silently in tho 
discharge of their duties, as if they were in the 
chamber of the dead. At last the ceremony of 
dinner was over, the attendants were dismissed, 
and Napoleon, rising, and closing the door with 
his own hand, was left alone with Josephine. 
Another ir>'. ment of most painful silence ensued, 



288 JosEPHiAE. lA.l). iSOa 

The communication to Josephine. Effects thereof 

when the emperor, pale as death, and trombhng 
m every nerve, approached the empress. He 
took her hand, placed it upon his heart, and in 
faltering accents said, "Josephine! my own 
good Josephine ! you know how I have loved 
you. It is to you alone that I owe the only few 
moments of happiness I have known in the world. 
Josephine ! my destiny is stronger than my will. 
My dearest affections must yield to the interests 
of France." 

Josephine's brain reeled ; her blood ceased to 
circulate ; she fainted, and fell lifeless upon the 
floor. Napoleon, alarmed, threw open the door 
of the saloon, and called for help. Attendants 
from the ante-room immediately entered. Na- 
poleon took a taper from the mantel, and utter- 
ing not a word, but pale and trembling, mo- 
tioned to the Count de Beaumont to take the 
empress in his arms. She was still unconscious 
of every thing, but began to murmur, in tonea 
of anguish, "Oh, no! you can not surely do 
it. You would not kill me." The emperor led 
the way, through a dark passage, to the private 
staircase which conducted to the apartment cf 
the empress. The agitation of Napoleon seemed 
now to increase. He uttered some incoherent 
sentences about a vioJ<5nt nervous attack ; and, 



A..D. 1809.] Divorce and l\st Days. 289 



igitation of Napoleon. A night of anguieb 

finding the stairs too steep and narrow for the 
Count de Beaumont to bear the body of the help» 
less Josephine unassisted, he gave the light to 
an attendant, and, supporting her limbs himself, 
they reached the door of her bed-roc;m. Napo- 
leon then, dismissing his male attendants, and 
laying Josephine upon her bed, rang for her 
waiting- women. He hung over her with an ex- 
pression of the most intense affection and anxi- 
ety until she began to revive. But the moment 
consciousness seemed returning, he left the room. 
Napoleon did not even throw himself upon his 
bed that night. He paced the floor until the 
dawn of the morning. The royal surgeon, Cor- 
visart, passed the night at the bed-side of the 
empress. Every hour the restless yet unrelent- 
ing emperor called at her door to inquire con- 
cerning her situation. " On recovering from 
my swoon," says Josephine, " I perceived that 
Corvisart was in attendance, and my poor 
daughter, Hortense, weeping over me. No i 
no ! I can not describe the horror of my situa- 
tlon during that night! Even the interest he 
alTected to take in my sufferings seemed to me 
additional cruelty. Oh ! how much reason had 
[ to dread becoming an empress !" 

A ^ortuierht now passed away, during which 

T 



290 Josephine. [A.D. 1809 

Innlrersary of the victory at Auaterlitz. Eugtne summoned from ltal» 

Napoleon and Josephine saw but little of each 
other. During this time there occurred the an- 
aiversary of the coronation, and of the victory 
of Austerlitz. Paris was filled with rejoicing. 
The bells rang their merriest peals. The me<' 
tropolis was refulgent with illuminations. In 
these festivities Josephine was compelled to ap- 
pear. She knew that the sovereigns and prin- 
ces then assembled in Paris were informed of 
her approaching disgrace. In all these sounds 
of triumph she heard but the knell of her own 
doom. And though a careful observer would 
have detected indications, in her moistened eye 
and her pallid cheek, of the secret woe which 
was consuming her heart, her habitual affabil- 
ity and grace never, in public, for one moment 
forsook her. Hortense, languid and sorrow- 
stricken, was with her mother. 

Eugene was summoned from Italy. He 
hastened to Paris, and his first interview was 
with his mother. From her saloon he went di- 
rectly to the cabinet of Napoleon, and inquired 
of the emperor if he had decided to obtain a di- 
fcrce from the empress. Napoleon, who was 
very strongly attached to Eugene, made no re- 
ply, but pressed his hand as an expression Ihat 
it was so. Eugene immediately dropped the 
hand of thf emperor, and said. 



A.D. 1809.J Divorce and last Days. 291 

Interview with Napoleon. He is not without feeling 

*' Sire, in that case, permit me to withdraw 
horn your service." 

" How !" exclaimed Napoleon, looking upofi 
him sadly ; " will you, Eugene, my adopted 
K)n; leave me ?" 

*' Yes, sire," Eugene replied, firmly; ''the 
son of her who is no longer empress can not re- 
m iin viceroy. I will follow my mother into her 
retreat. She must now find her consolation in 
her children." 

Napoleon was not without feelings. Tears 
tilled his eyes. In a mournful voice, tremulous 
with emotion, he replied, " Eugene, you know 
the stern necessity which compels this measure, 
and will you forsake me ? Who, then, should 
I have a son, the object of my desires and pre- 
server of my interests, who would watch over 
the child when I am absent? If I die, who 
will prove to him a father ? Who will bring 
him up ? Who is to make a man of him ?" 

Eugene was deeply affected, and, taking 
Napoleon's arm, they retired and conversed a 
long time together. The noble Josephine, ever 
sacrificing her own feelings to promote the hap- 
piness of others, urged her son to remain the 
friend of Napoleon. '' The emperor," she said, 
'* is vour benefactor — your more than father- 



292 Josephine. [ A.B. 1809 

The council aeeembled. Address of NapoleoB. 

to whom you are indebted for every thing, and 
to whom, therefore, you owe a boundless obedi- 
Giwe." 

The fatal day for the consummation of the 
divorce at length arrived. It was the 15th of 
December, 1809. Napoleon had assembled all 
the kings, princes, and princesses who were 
members of the imperial family, and also the 
most illustrious officers of the empire, in the 
grand saloon of the Tuilleries. Every individ- 
ual present was oppressed with the melancholy 
grandeur of the occasion. Napoleon thus ad- 
dressed them : 

'' The political interests of my monarchy, 
the wishes of my people, which have constantly 
guided my actions, require that I should trans- 
mit to an heir, inheriting my love for the peo- 
ple, the throne on w^hich Providence has placed 
me. For many years I have lost all hopes of 
having children by my beloved spouse, the Em» 
press Josephine. It is this consideration which 
induces me to sacrifice the sweetest affections 
of my heart, to consult only the good of mj 
subjects, and to desire the dissolution of our 
marriage. Arrived at the age of forty years, I 
may indulge a reasonable hope of living long 
enough to rear, in the spirit of my own thoughtf 



A. D. 1809.] DivoR TE AND LAST Days. 293 



He is itill the friend of Josephine. Her respcnsa 

and disposition, the children with which it may 
please Providence to bless me. God knows 
what such a determination has cost my heart ; 
but there is no sacrifice which is above my 
courage, when it is proved to be f(.r the inter- 
ests of France. Far from having any cause 
of complaint, I have nothing to say but in praise 
of the attachment and tenderness of my beloved 
wife. She has embellished fifteen years of my 
life, and the remembrance of them will be for- 
ever engraven on my heart. She was crowned 
by my hand ; she shall retain always the rank 
and title of empress. Above all, let her never 
doubt my feelings, or regard me but as her best 
and dearest friend." 

Josephine, her eyes filled with tears, with a 
faltering voice, replied, " 1 respond to all the 
(sntiments of the emperor in consentingf to the 
dissolution of a marriage which henceforth is 
an obstacle to the happiness of France, by de- 
priving it of the blessing of being one day gov. 
erned b) the descendants of that great man 
who was evidently raised up by Providence to 
efface the evils of a terrible revolution, and to 
restore the altar, and the throne, and social or- 
der. But his marriage will in no respect change 
the sentiments of my heart- The emperrr v.-iF 



294 Josephine. [A.D. 1809 

The council again assembled. Consummation of the divorcA 



ever find in me his best friend. I know what 
this act, conimanded hy policy and exalted in- 
terests, has cost his heart, but we both glory ia 
the sacrifices we make for the good of the coun- 
try. I feel elevated in giving the greatest prooi 
of attachment and devotion that was ever giv- 
en u[)on earth." 

Such were the sentiments which were ex- 
pressed in public ; but in private Josephine sur- 
rendered herself to the unrestrained dominion 
of her anguish. No language can depict the 
intensity of her woe. For six months she wept 
so incessantly that her eyes were nearly blind- 
ed with grief Upon the ensuing day the coun 
cil were again assembled in the grand saloon, 
to witness the legal consummation of the di- 
vorce. The emperor entered the room dressed 
in the imposing robes of state, but pallid, care- 
worn, and wretched. Low tones of voice, har- 
monizing with the mournful scene, filled the 
room. Napoleon, apart by himself, leaned 
against a pillar, folded his arms upon his oreast, 
and, in perfect silence, apparently lost in gloorr y 
thought, remained motionless as a statue. A 
circular table was placed in the center of the 
apartment, and upon this there was a writing 
apparatus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stoo<J 



.VD.1809.] Divorce and iastDays. 2'.)!^ 

Entrance of Josephine. Emotion of Ucrtcnse 

before the table. Never did a multitude gazo 
upon the scaffold, the block, or the guillotine 
with more awe than the assembled lords and 
ladies in this gorgeous saloon contemplated thesa 
instruments of a more dreadful execution. 

At length the mournful silence was interrupt- 
ed by the opening of a side door and the en- 
trance of Josephine. The pallor of death was 
upon her brow, and the submission of despair 
nerved her into a temporary calmness. She 
was leaning upon the arm of Hortense, who^ 
not possessing the fortitude of her mother, was 
entirely unable to control her feelings. The 
sympathetic daughter, immediately upon enter- 
mg into the room, burst into tears, and contin- 
ned sobbing most convulsively during the whole 
remaining scene. Tlie assembly respectfully 
arose upon the entrance of Josephine, and all 
were moved to tears. With that grace which 
ever distinguished her movements, she advanced 
silently to the seat provided for her. Sitting 
down, and leaning her forehead upon her hand, 
she listened to the reading of the act of separa- 
tion. Nothing disturbed the sepulchral silence 
of the scene but the convulsive sobbings of Her- 
tense, blending with the mournful tones of the 
reader's voice Eugene, in the mean time, pale 



2% Josephine. [A.D 1809 



Josephine signs the divorce. Anguish of Eugeoo 

and trembling as an aspen leaf, had taken a ])o- 
siticn by the side of his mother. Silent tearg 
wore trickling down the cheeks of the empress. 

As soon as the reading of the act of separa- 
tion was finished, Josephine for a moment press- 
ed her handkerchief to her weeping eyes, and 
then, rising, in clear and musical, but tremulous 
tones, pronounced the oath of acceptance. She 
then sat down, took the pen, and affixed her sig- 
nature to the deed which sundered the dearest 
hopes and the fondest ties which human hearts 
can feel. Poor Eugene could endure this an- 
guish no longer. His brain reeled, his heart 
ceased to beat, and he fell lifeless upon the floor 
Josephine and Hortense retired with the at- 
tendants who bore out the insensible form of 
the affectionate son and brother. It was a fit- 
ting termination of this mournful but sublime 
tragedy. 

But the anguish of the day was not yet closed. 
Josephine, half delirious with grief, had anothei 
scene still more painful to pass through in tak» 
ing a final adieu of him who had been her hus- 
oand. She remained in her chamber, in heart- 
rending, spe3chless grief, until the hour arrived 
in which Napoleon usually retired for the right. 
The emperor, restless and wretcheH, had just 



A..D.1809.] Divorce and last Days. 297 

Last private interview between Josephine and Napolson. 



placed himself in the bed from which he had 
ejected his most faithful and devoted wife, and 
the attendant was on the point of leaving the 
room, when the private door of his .chambei 
was slowly opened, and Josephine tremblingly 
entered. Her eyes were swollen with grief, her 
hair disheveled, and she appeared in all the dis- 
habille of unutterable anguish. She tottered 
into the middle of the room, and approached the 
bed ; then, irresolutely stopping, she buried her 
face in her hands, and burst into a flood of tears. 
A feeling of delicacy seemed for a moment to 
have arrested her steps — a consciousness that 
she had now no right to enter the chamber of 
Napoleon ; but in another moment all the pent- 
up love of her heart burst forth, and, forgetting 
every thing in the fullness of her anguish, she 
threw herself upon the bed, clasped Napoleon's 
neck in her arms, and exclaiming, '' My bus 
oand I my husband !" sobbed as though her heart 
were breaking. The imperial spirit of Nape* 
leon was for the moment entirely vanquished, 
and he also wept almost convulsively. He as- 
sured Josephine of his love — of his ardent and 
undying love. In every way he tried to soothe 
and comfort her, and for some time they remain- 
ed locked in each other's embrace. The attend- 



298 JuSEPHINE. [A.l). 1« lU 

The final adieu. Mental anguish of Nupoleon 

ant was dismissed, and for an hour they con- 
tinued together in this last private interview. 
Josephine then, in the experience of an inten- 
sity of anguish v^hich few hearts have ever 
known, parted fcrever from the husband whom 
fehe had so long, so fondly, and so faithfully loved. 

After the empress had retired, with a deso- 
lated heart, to her chamber of unnatural widow- 
hood, the attendant entered the apartment of 
Napoleon to remove the lights. He found the 
emperor so buried beneath the bed-clothes as to 
be invisible. Not a word was uttered. The 
lights were removed, and the unhappy monarch 
was left in darkness and silence to the dreadful 
companionship of his own thoughts. The next 
morning the death-like pallor of his cheek, his 
sunken eye, and the haggard expression of his 
countenance, attested that the emperor had 
passed the night in sleeplessness and suffering. 

Great as was the wrong which Napoleon thus 
inflicted upon the noble Josephine, every one 
must be sensible of a certain kind of grandeur 
which pervades the tragedy. When we con- 
template the brutal butcheries of Henry VHI,, 
as wife after wife was compelled to place her 
head upon the block, merely to afford room for 
the indulgence of his vagrant i)assions ; when 



A..D 1810] Divorce a^nd last Days. 299 

Malmaison assigned to Josephine as her future residence. 



we contemplate George IV., by neglect and in- 
humanity driving Caroline to desperation and 
to crime, and polluting the ear of the world with 
the revolting story of sin and shame ; when we 
contemplate the Bourbons, generation after gen- 
eration, rioting in voluptuousness, in utter dis- 
regard of all the laws of God and man, while we 
can not abate one iota of our condemnation of 
the great wrong which Napoleon perpetrated, 
we feel that it becomes the monarchies of Eu- 
»'ope to be sparing in their condemnation. 

The beautiful palace of Malmaison, which 
Napoleon had embellished with every possible 
attraction, and where the emperor and empress 
had passed many of their happiest hours, was 
assigned to Josephine for her future residence. 
Napoleon settled upon her a jointure of about 
six hundred thousand dollars a year. She was 
still to retain the title and the rank of Empress- 
Queen. 

The ensuing day, at eleven o'clock, all the 
household of the Tuilleries were assembled upon 
chd grand staircase and in the vestibule, to wit- 
ness the departure of their beloved mistress from 
scenes where she had so long been the brightest 
ornament. Josephine descended, veiled from 
bead to foot. Her emotions were too deep foi 



300 Josephine. [A.D. 1810 

Josephine leaves the Tuilleries. Madame de UochefoucauJt 

utterance, and she waved an adieu to the affec- 
tionate and weeping friends who surrounded her. 
A. close carriage, with six horses, was before the 
door. She entered it, sank back upon the cush- 
ions, buried her face in her handkerchief, and, 
sobbing bitterly, left the Tuilleries forever. 

Josephine was still surrounded with all the 
external splendors of royalty. She was beloved 
throughout France, and admired throughout 
Europe. Napoleon frequently called upon her, 
though, from motives of delicacy, he never saw 
her alone. He consulted her respecting all his 
plans, and most assiduously cherished her friend- 
ship. It was soon manifest that the surest way 
of securing the favor of Napoleon was to pay 
marked attention to Josephine. The palace of 
Malmaison, consequently, became the favorite 
resort of all the members of the court of Napo- 
leon. Soon after the divorce, Madame de Roche- 
foucault, formerly mistress of the robes to Jose- 
phine, deserting the forsaken empress, applied 
for the same post of honor in the household c( 
Maria Louisa. Napoleon, when he heard of the 
application, promptly and indignantly replied, 
** She shall neither retain her old situation nor 
have the new one. I am accused of ungrateful 
conduct toward Josephine, but I do not choose 



A.D. 1810.J Divorce and last Days. 301 

loeephine submissive to her lot. Morning partiet 

to have any imitators, more especially among 
those whom she has honored with her confidence, 
fioid overwhelmed with benefits." 

Josephine remained for some time at Mai* 
maison. In deeds of kindness to the poor who 
surrounded her, in reading, and in receiving, 
with the utmost elegance of hospitality, the 
members of the court of Napoleon, who were 
ever crowding her saloons, she gradually re- 
gained her equanimity of spirit, and surrendered 
herself entirely to a quiet and pensive submis- 
sion. Napoleon frequently called to see her, 
and, taking her arm, he would walk for hours, 
most confidentially unfolding to her all his plans. 
He seemed to desire to do every thing in his 
power to alleviate the intensity of anguish with 
which he had wruns; her heart. His own affec- 
tions clung still to Josephine, and her lovely and 
noble character commanded, increasingly, hia 
homage. The empress was very methodical in 
all her arrangements, allotting to each hour its 
appointed duty. The description of the routine 
of any one day would answer about equally 
well for all. 

Ten o'clock in the morning was he receptioL 
hour. These morning parties, attended by the 
most distinguished members of Parisian socie- 



302 Josephine. [A.D.ISIO 

Social habits. Daily routine at Malmaisoa 

ty, none appearing except in uniform or in court 
costume, were always very brilliant. Some 
ten or twelve of the visitors were always pre- 
viously invited to remain to breakfast. At 
sleven o'clock they passed from the saloon to 
the breakfast-room, the empress leading, fol- 
lowed by her court according to their rank, she 
naming those who were to sit on her right and 
left. The repast, both at breakfast and dinner, 
ordinarily consisted of one course only, ever^ 
thing excepting the dessert being placed upon 
the table at once. The empress had five at- 
tendants, who stood behind her chair; all the 
guests who sat down with her had one each. 
Seven officials of different ranks served at the 
table. The breakfast usually occupied three 
quarters of an hour, when the empress, with 
her ladies and guests, adjourned to the gallery, 
which contained the choicest specimens of paint- 
ing and sculpture which the genius of Napo- 
leon could select. The prospect from the gal- 
lery was very commanding, and, in entire free- 
dom from constraint, all could find pleasant 
employment. Some examined with delight the 
varied works of art ; some, in the embrasures 
of the windows, looked out upon the lovely 
scenery, and in subdued tones of voice engaged 



A.D.1810.J Divorce and last Days. 303 

The airing. The dinner hour. Mirthful evenings 

in conversation ; while the chamberlain in at- 
tendance read aloud from some useful and en- 
tertaining volume to Josephine, and those who 
wished to listen with her. At two o'clock the 
arrival of the carriages at the door was the sig- 
nal for the visitors to depart. Three open car- 
riages, when the weather permitted, were al- 
ways provided, each drawn by four horses. 
Madame d'Arberg, the lady of honor, one of the 
ladies in waiting, and some distinguished guest, 
accompanied the empress. Two hours were 
spent in riding, visiting improvements, and con- 
versing freely with the various employees on 
the estate. The party then returned to the 
palace, and all disposed of their time as they 
pleased until six o'clock, the hour of dinner. 
From twelve to fifteen strangers were always 
invited to dine. After dinner the evenins: was 
devoted to relaxation, conversation, backgam- 
mon, and other games. The young ladies, of 
whom there were always many whom Josephine 
retained around her, usually, in the course cf 
the evening, withdrew from the drawing-room 
to a smaller saloon opening from it, where, with 
unrestrained glee, they engaged in mirthful 
sports, or, animated by the music of the piano, 
mingled in the dance. Sometimes, in the buoy 



S04 JosrpHiNE. [A.D. 1810 

Marrisge of Napoleon and Maria Louisa. 

ancy of youthful joy, they forgot the demands 
of etiquette, and somewhat incommoded, by 
their merry laughter, the more grave company 
III the grand apartment. The lady of honos 
W(;uld, on such occasions, hint at the necessity 
of repressing the mirth. Josephine would in- 
variably interpose in their behalf. " My dear 
Madame d'Arberg," she would say, " suffei 
both them and us to enjoy, while we may, all 
that innocent happiness which comes from the 
heart, and which penetrates the heart." At 
eleven o'clock, tea, ices, and sweetmeats were 
served, and then the visitors took their leave 
Josephine sat up an hour later conversing most 
freely and confidentially with those friends who 
were especially dear to her, and about midnight 
retired. 

In the month of March, 1810, Maria Louisa 
arrived in Paris, and her marriage with Napo- 
leon w^as celebrated with the utmost splendor 
at St. Cloud. All France resounded with re- 
joicing as Napoleon led his youthful bride into 
the Tuilleries, from whence, but three months 
before, Josephine had been so cruelly ejected. 
The booming of the cannon, the merry pealing 
of the bells, the acclamations of the populace, 
fed heavily upon the heart of Josephine. She 



A.D. 1811. Divorce \ndi\stDa\s. 30* 

Birth of the King of Rome. Letter from Josephine 

tried to conceal her anguish, but her pallid 
cheek and swimming eye revealed the seveiity 
of her sufferings. 

Napoleon continued, however, the frequency 
M his correspondence, and, notwithstanding the 
jealousy of Maria Louisa, did not at all inter- 
mit his visits. In a little more than a year 
after his marriage the King of Rome was born. 
The evening in which Josephine received the 
tidings of his birth, she wrote an affectionate 
and touching letter to Napoleon, congratulating 
him upon the event. This letter reveals so 
conspicuously the magnanimity of her princi- 
ples, and yet the feminine tenderness of her 
bleeding heart, that we can not refrain from in 
serting it. It was dated at Navarre, at mid- 
night, the 20th of March, 1811. 

" Sire, — Amid the numerous felicitations 
which you receive from every corner of Europe, 
from all the cities of France, and from each reg- 
iment of your army, can the feeble voice of a 
woman reach your oar, and will you deign to 
listen to her who so often consoled your sorrows, 
and sweetened your pains, now that she speaks 
to you only of that happiness in which all youi 
wishes arc fulfilled ? Having ceased to be your 
wife, dare I felicitate you on becoming a father t 

h 



306 Josephine [AD.1811 

Josephine's interest in the son of Napoleon. 

Yes, sire, without hesitation, for my soul renders 
justice to yours, in like manner as you know 
mme. I can conceive e\ery emotion you must 
experience, as you divine all that I feel at this 
moment, and, though separated, we are united 
by that sympathy which survives all events. 

" I should have desired to have learned the 
birth of the King of Rome from yourself, and not 
from the sound of the cannon of Evreux, or from 
the courier of the prefect. I know, however, 
that, in preference to all, your first attentions are 
due to the public authorities of the state, to the 
foreign ministers, to your family, and especially 
to the fortunate princess who has realized your 
dearest hopes. She can not be more tenderly 
devoted to you than I am. But she has been 
enabled to contribute more toward your happi- 
ness by securing that of France. She has, then, 
a right to your first feelings, to all your cares, 
and I, who was but your companion in times of 
difficulty — I can not ask more than for a place 
in your affections far removed from that occu* 
pied by the empress, Maria Louisa. Not tiL 
you have ceased tn watch bv her bed — not tili 
you are weary of emoracing your son, wiU you 
take the pen to converse with your best friend 
T will wait. 



A-.D.ISIJ.] Divorce and last Days 3v>7 



Her joy at hla birth. Her desire fcr in >nnation 

" Meanwhile, it is not possible for nne to de- 
lay telling you that, more than any one in the 
w*orld, do T rejoice in your joy. And you will 
not doubt my sincerity when I here say thai, 
far from feeling an affliction at a sacrifice nec- 
sssary for the repose of all, I congratulate my- 
self on having made it, since I now suffer alone. 
But 1 am wrong ; T do not suffer while you are 
happy, and I have but one regret, in not having 
yet done enough to prove how dear you were to 
me. I have no account of the health of the em- 
press. T dare to depend upon you, sire, so far 
as to hope that I shall have circumstantial de- 
tails of the great event which secures the per- 
petuity of the name you have so nobly illustrat- 
ed. Eugene and Hortense will write me, im- 
parting their own satisfaction ; but it is from 
you that I desire to know if your child be well, 
if he resembles you, if I shall one day be per- 
mitted to see him. In short, I expect from you 
anlimited confidence, and upon such I hava 
wme claims, in consideration, sire, of the bound, 
less attachment 1 shall cherish for you while life 
remains." 

She had but just dispatched this letter to Na- 
poleon, when the folding-doors were thrown open 
with mu3h state, and the announcement, " From 



308 Josephine. [A.D. 1811 

4 letter from Napoleon. Deep emotion of Josephine 

the emperor," ushered in a page, the bearer of a 
letter. The fragile and beautifu. youth, whom 
Josephine immediately recognized, had so care- 
fully secured the emperor's billet, from fear of 
losing it, that it took some time for him, in his 
slight embarrassment, to extricate it. Josephine 
was almost nervously excited till she received 
the note, and immediately retired with it to hei 
own private apartment. Half an hour elapsed 
before she again m.ade her appearance. Her 
whole countenance attested the intensity of the 
conflicting emotions with which her soul had 
been agitated. Her eyes were swollen with 
weeping, and the billet, which she sti)^ held in 
her hand, was blurred with her tears. She gave 
the page a letter to the emperor in reply, and 
then presented him, as an acknowledgment of 
her appreciation of the tidings he had brought, 
with a small morocco case, containing a dia^ 
mond breastpin, and a thousand dollars in gold. 
She then, with a tremulous voice, and smil* 
ing through her tears, read the emperor's note 
*^o her friends. The concluding words of the 
note were; " This infant, in concert with 7ur 
Eug'ene, will constitute my happiness and that 
of France." As Josephine read these words 
with emphasis, she exclaimed, '' Is it possibla 



A..D.1811 J DivcRCE AND LA&r JDays. S09 



Amiability of Napoleon. He presents bis son to Josephin«\ 

to be more amiable ! Could any thing be bet« 
ter calculated to soothe whatever mif^ht be 

a 

painful in my thoughts at this moment, did 1 
not so sincerely love the emperor? This unit- 
ing of my son with his own is indeed worthy 
of liim who, when he wills, is the most delight- 
ful of men. This is it which has so much 
moved me." 

The emperor often afterward called upon her. 
He soon, notwithstanding the jealousy of Ma- 
ria Louisa, arranged a plan by which he pre- 
sented to Josephine, in his own arms, the idol- 
ized child. These interviews, so gratifying to 
Josephine, took place at the Royal Pavilion, 
near Paris, Napoleon and Madame Montesquieu, 
governess to the young prince, being the only 
confidants. In one of Josephine's letters to Na- 
poleon, she says, " The moment I saw you en- 
ter, leading the young Napoleon in your hand, 
was unquestionably one of the happiest of nij 
life. It effaced, for a time, the recollection of 
all Ihat had preceded it, for never have I ro 
ooived from you a more touching mark of af 
faction." 

The apartment at Malmaison which Napo» 
!6on had formerly occupied reniainsd exactlr 
as it was when he last left it. /oscphine ho^ 



310 JOSEIHINE. lA.D.lSll 

Generaus conduct of Josephine. Letter to her superintondpnt 

self kept the key, and dusted the room with her 
own hands. She would not permit a single 
article of furniture to be moved. The book he 
was last reading lay open upon the table, tho 
map he was consulting, the pen with which he 
wrote, the articles of clothing which he had left 
in his accustomed disorder, all remained tin- 
touched. Josephine's bed-chamber was very 
simply furnished with white muslin drapery, 
the only ornament being the golden toilet serv- 
ice which she had received from the municipal- 
ity of Paris, and which, with characteristic 
generosity, she refused to consider as her own 
private property until Napoleon sent it to her. 
The following letter from Josephine, written at 
this time, pleasingly illustrates her literary pol- 
ish and the refinement of her taste. It was 
addressed to the superintendent, ordering some 
alterations at Malmaison. 

" Profit by my absence, dear F., and maka 
haste to dismantel the pavilion of the acacias 
and to transfer my boudoir into that of the or« 
angery. I should wish the first apartment of 
the suite, and which serves for an ante-room, to 
be painted with light green, with a borier of 
lilachs. In the center of the panels you will 
place my fine engravings from Esther, and ud- 



A.D. 1811.] Divorce and last Days. 311 



Refined tast« of Josephine. 



dor each of these a portrait of the distinguished 
generals of the Revolution. In the center of 
the apartment there must be a large flower- 
stand, constantly filled with fresh flowers in 
their season, and in each angle a bust of a French 
philosopher. I particularly mention that of 
Rousseau, which place between the two win. 
dows, so that the vines and foliage may play 
around his head. This will be a natural crown 
worthy of the author of Emile. As to my pri- 
vate cabinet, let it be colored light blue, with a 
border of ranunculus and polyanthus. Ten 
large engravings from the Gallery of the Mu- 
see, and twenty medallions, will fill up the pan- 
els. Let the casements be painted white and 
green, with double fillets, gilded. My piano, a 
green sofa, and two couches with correspond- 
ing covers, a secretaire, a small bureau, and a 
large toilet-g'ass, are articles you will not forget. 
In the center, place a large table, always cov- 
ered with freshly-gathered flowers, and upon the 
mantel-shelf a simple pendule, two alabaster 
vases, and double-branched girandoles. Unite 
elegance to variety, but no profusion. Nothing 
Is more opposetl to good taste. In short, I con- 
fide to you the care of rendering this cherished 
ppot an agreeable retreat, where I may medi- 



312 Josephine. [ A.I). 1813. 



Continued grief of Josephine. Palace of Navarre> 

tate, sleep it may be, but oftenest read, which 
last is sufficient to remind you of three hund- 
red volumes of my small edition." 

When Josephine first retired to Malmaison, 
where every thing reminded her of the emper- 
or, her grief for many months continued una- 
bated. To divert her attention, Napoleon con- 
ferred upon her the palace oY Navarre. This 
was formerly a royal residence, and was re- 
nowned for its magnificent park. During the 
Revolution it had become much dilapidated. 
The elegant chateau was situated in the midst 
of the romantic forest of Evreux. The spacious 
grounds were embellished by parks, whose ven- 
erable trees had withstood the storms of centu- 
ries, and by beautiful streams and crystal lakes 
The emperor gave Josephine nearly three hund- 
red thousand dollars to repair the buildings and 
the grounds. The taste of Josephine soon con- 
verted the scene into almost a terrestrial Eden, 
and Navarre, being far more retired than ]Mal- 
maison, became her favorite residence. 

Soon after Jo&dphine had taken up her resi- 
deuce at Navarre, she wrote the following Icttei 
to Napoleon, which pleasingly illustrates the 
cordiality of friendship which still existed be. 
tween them • 



A.D.1813.] Divorce and last Days. 313 

Letter to Napoleon. Josephine desires repose 

" Sire, — I received this morning the welcome 
Qote which was written on the eve of your de- 
parture for St. Cloud, and hasten to reply to its 
tender and affectionate contents. These, in- 
deed, do not in themselves surprise me, but only 
as being received so early as fifteen days after 
my establishment here, so perfectly assured was 
I that your attachment would search out the 
means of consoling me under a separation ne- 
cessary to the tranquillity of both. The thought 
that your care follows me into my retreat ren 
ders it almost agreeable. 

" xVfter having known all the rapture of a 
love that is shared, and all the suffering of a 
love that is shared no longer — after having ex 
hausted all tlie pleasures that supreme powei 
can confer, and all the happiness of beholding 
the man whom I loved enthusiastically admired, 
is there aught else, save repose, to be desired 1 
What illusions can now remain for me ? Ali 
such vanished when it became necessary to re* 
aounce you. Thus the only ties which yet 
bind me to life are my sentiments for you, at- 
tachment for my children, the possibility of 
stiL being able to do some good, and, above all, 
the assurance that you are happy. Do not, 
then, condole with me on my being here, dis- 



314 JosE.'UiNE. [A.D.1813 

Occup atione of Josephine at Navarre. M. Bourlier 

tant from a court, which you appear to think 1 
regret. Surrounded by those who are attached 
to me, free to follow my taste for the arts, 1 
find myself better at Navarre than any where 
else, for I enjoy more completely the society of 
the former, and form a thousand projects which 
may prove useful to the latter, and which will 
embellish the scenes I owe to your bounty. 
There is much to be done here, for all around 
are discovered the traces of destruction. These 
I would efface, that there may exist no memo- 
rial of those horrible inflictions which your ge- 
nius has taught the nation almost to forget. 
In repairing whatever these ruffians of revolu- 
tion labored to annihilate, I shall diffuse com- 
fort around me, and the benedictions of the 
poor will afford me infinitely more pleasure 
than the feigned adulation of courtiers. 

" I have already told you what I think of the 
functionaries in this department, but have not 
spoken sufficiently of the respectable bishop, 
M. Bourlier. Every day I learn some new 
trait which causes me still more highly to es- 
teem the man w^o unites the most enlightened 
benevolence with the most amiable disposition 
He shall be intrusted with distributing my alms- 
deeds'in Evreux, and, as he visits the indigent 



A D. 1813.] Divorce as d last Days. 315 

Character of Josephine's household. 

himself, I shall be assured that my charities 
are properly bestowed. 

" I can not sufficiently thank you, sire, for 
the liberty you have permitted me of choosing 
the members of my household, all of whom con- 
tribute to the pleasure of a delightful society. 
One circumstance alone gives me pain, name- 
ly, the etiquette of costume, which becomes a 
little tiresome in the country. You fear that 
there may be something wanting to the rank I 
have preserved should a slight infraction be al- 
lowed to the toilet of these gentlemen ; but 
I believe that you are wrong in thinking they 
would for one moment forget the respect due 
to the woman who was once your companion 
Their respect for yourself, joined to the sincere 
attachment they bear to me, which I can not 
doubt, secures me from the danger of ever be- 
mg obliged to recall what it is your wish that 
they should remember. My most honorable 
title is derived, not from having been crowned, 
btit assuredly from having been chosen by you. 
None other is of value. That alone suffices foi 
my immortality. 

'* My circle is at this time somewhai more 
numerous than usual, there being several visit- 
:)rs besides many of the inhabitants of Evreus 



316 Josephine. [A.D. 1813 

Convei sation between Napoleon and Josephine 

and the environs, whom 1 see of course. 1 am 
pleased with their manners, with their admira- 
fcion of you, a particular in which you know 
that I am not easily satisfied. In short, I find 
fTiyself perfectly at home in the midst of my 
f-jiast, and entreat you, sire, rj longer to fancy 
to yourself that there is no living at a distance 
from court. Besides you, there is nothing there 
which 1 regret, since I shall have ray children 
with me soon, and already enjoy the society of 
the small number of friends who remained faith- 
ful to me. Do not forget i/our friciid. Tell 
her sometimes that you preserve for her an at- 
tachment which constitutes the felicity of her 
life. Often repeat to her that you are happy, 
and be assured that for her the future will thus 
be peaceful, as the past has been stormy, and 
often sad." 

Just before Napoleon set out on his fatal cam- 
paign to Russia, he called to see Josephine. 
Seated upon a circular bench in the garden, be 
fore the windows of the saloon, where they could 
both be seen but not overheard, they continued 
for two hours engaged most earnestly in conver- 
sation. Josephine was apparently endeavoring 
to dissuade him from the perilous enterprisa 
His perfect confidence, h nvever seemed to as- 



A. D. 1813.] Divorce and last Days. 317 

rheir last interview. Napoleon continues liis corrcspondeneft 

sure her that her apprehensions were groundless 
At last he arose and kissed her hand. She ac- 
companied him to his carriage, and bade hini 
idieu. This was their last interview but one. 
Soon Napoleon returned, a fugitive from Mos- 
30W. Days of disaster were darkening around 
his path. All Europe had risen in arms against 
him, and were on the march toward his capital. 
In the midst of the terror of those dreadful days, 
he sought a hurried interview with his most 
faithful friend. It was their last meeting. As 
he was taking his leave of Josephine, at the close 
of this short and melancholy visit, he gazed upon 
her a moment in silence, tenderly and sadly, and 
then said, " Josephine ! I have been as fortunate 
a? was ever man on the face*of this earth. But, 
in this hour, when a storm is gathering over my 
head, I have not, in this wide world, any one but 
you upon whom I can repose." 

In the fearful conflict which ensued — the most 
terrible which history has recorded — Napoleon'i 
thoughts ever reverted to the wife of his youth 
He kept up an almost daily correspondence with 
her, informing her of the passing of events. His 
'etters, written in the midst of all the confusion 
of tne camp, were more affectionate and confid- 
ing than ever Adversity had softened his heari 



318 Josephine. TA.D. 1813 

Days of dieastec Approach of the allied armies 

In these dark days, when, with most Herculean 
power, .'^e was struggling against fearful odds, 
and his throne was crumbling beneath his feet, 
it was observed that a letter from Josephine was 
rather torn than broken open, so great was the 
eagerness of Napoleon to receive a line from her. 
Wherever he was, however great the emergen- 
cy in which he was placed, the moment a cour- 
ier brought to him a letter from Josephine, all 
other business was laid aside until it had been 
read. 

The allied armies were every day approach- 
ing nearer and nearer to Paris, and Josephine 
was overwhelmed with grief in contemplating 
the disasters which were falling upon Napoleon. 
At Malmaison, Josephine and the ladies of her 
court were employed in forming bandages and 
scraping lint for the innumerable wounded who 
filled the hospitals. The conflicting armies ap- 
proached so near to Malmaison that it became 
dangerous for Josephine to remain there, and, in 
great apprehension, she one morning, at eigh^ 
o'clock, took her carriage for Navarre. Two cr 
three times m the road she was alarmed by the 
cry, " Cossacks ! Cossacks !" When she haa 
proceeded about thirty miles, the pole of hei 
carriage broke, and at the same time a troop of 



A..D.1814.] Divorce and last Days. 319 

41ann of Josephine. Accident Josephine at Navurro 

horsemen appeared in the distance, riding down 
upon her. They were French hussars ; but Jo- 
sephine thought that they were either Cossacks 
or Prussians, and, though the rain was falling 
in torrents, in her terror she leaped from the 
carriage, and began to fly across the fields. She 
had proceeded some distance before her attend- 
ants discovered the mistake. The carriage be- 
ing repaired, she proceeded the rest of her way 
unmolested. The empress hardly uttered a 
word during this melancholy journey, but upon 
entering the palace she threw herself upon a 
couch, exclaiming, "Surely, surely Bonaparta 
is ignorant of what is passing within sight of 
the gates of Paris, or, if he knows, how cruel 
the thoughts which must now agitate his breast ! 
Oh ! if he had listened to me." 

Josephine remained for some days at Navarre, 
in a state of most painful anguish respecting the 
fate of the emperor. She allowed herself no re- 
laxation, excepting a solitary ride each morning 
in the park, and another short ride after dinner 
with one of her ladies. The Emperor Alexan- 
der had immediately sent a guard of honor tf^ 
protect Josephine from all intrusion. Hundreds 
of thousands of soldiers were swarming in all di^ 
rections, and every dwelling was filled with ter- 



520 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 

4 melaBcholj incident. Brutality of the Cossacks 

ror and distraction. One melancholy incident 
we will record, illustrative of hundreds which 
might be narrated. Lord Londonderry, in the 
midst of a bloody skirmish, saw a young and 
beautiful French lady, the wife of a colonel, in 
a caleche, seized by three brutal Russian sol- 
diers, who were carrying off, into the fields, their 
frantic and shrieking victim. The gallant En- 
glishman, sword in hand, rushed forward for her 
deliverance from his barbarian allies. He suc- 
ceeded in rescuing her, and, in the confusion of 
the battle still raging, ordered a dragoon to take 
her to his own quarters till she could be provided 
with suitable protection. The dragoon took the 
lady, half dead with terror, upon his horse be- 
hind him, and was galloping with her to a place 
of safety, when another ruffian band of Cossacks 
6urrDunded him, pierced his body with their sa- 
bers, and seized again the unhappy victim. She 
was never heard of more. The Emperor Alex- 
ander was greatly distressed at her fate, and 
made the utmost, though unavailing efforts to 
discover what had become of her. The revela* 
feions of the last day alone can divulge the hor- 
rors of this awful tragedy. 

The grief of Josephine in these days of anxi- 
etv was intense in the extreme. She passed 



A.. D. 1814.] Divorce aind last Days. 321 

A^ffecting note from Napoleon. His downfall 

her whole time in talking about Napoleon, or in 
reading the letters she had lately received from 
him. He wrote frequently, as he escaped from 
place to place, but many of his letters were in- 
teroepted by the bands of soldiers traversing ev- 
ery road The last she had received from him 
was dated at Brienne. It gave an account of a 
desperate engagement, in which the little band 
of Napoleon had been overwhelmed by numbers, 
and was concluded with the following affecting 
words : " On beholding those scenes where I 
had passed my boyhood, and comparing my 
peaceful condition then with the agitation and 
terrors which I now experience, I several times 
said, in my own mind, I have sought to meet 
death in many conflicts ; I can no longer fear it. 
To me death would now be a blessing. But I 
would once more see Josephine " 

Notwithstanding the desperate state of affairs, 
Josephine still cherished the hope that his com- 
manding genius would yet enable him to re 
trievc his fortunes. All these hopes were, how 
eve?, dispelled on the receipt of the following 
letter : 

" Fontaiiiebleau, April 18, 1814. 

" Dear Josephine, — I wrote to you on the 

•ii^hth of this month, but perhaps you have not 

X 



322 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 



Letter from Napoleon to Josephine. False Menda 

received my letter. Hostilities still continued, 
and possibly it may have been intercepted. At 
present the communications must be re-estab- 
lished. I have formed my resolution. I have, 
no doubt that this billet will reach you. I will 
not repeat what I said to you. Then I lament- 
ed my situation, now I congratulate myself upon 
it. My head and spirit are freed from an enor- 
mous weight. My fall is great, but it may, as 
men say, prove useful. In my retreat I shall 
substitute the pen for the sword. The history 
of my reign will be curious. The world has yet 
^een me only in profile. I shall show myself in 
full. How many things have I to disclose ! how 
many are the men of whom a false estimate is 
entertained ! T have heaped benefits upon mill- 
ions of wretches ! What have they done in the 
end for me ? They have all betrayed me — yes, 
all. I except from this number the good Eu- 
gene, so worthy of you and of me. Adieu ! my 
dear Josephine. Be resigned as I am, and nev- 
er forget him who never forgot, and never wili 
'>rget you. Farewell, Josephine. 

"Napoleon, 
**P.S. — I expect to hear from you at Rlb^ 
I am not very well." 



A..D 18.14.] Divorce and last Days. 'S2'S 

JoBepbioe rrsoives not to abandon Napoleon. Honor paid to Josephine, 



T^pon reading these tidings of so terrible an 
overthrow, Josephine was overwhelmed with 
grief, and for a time wept bitterly. Soon, how- 
ever, recovering her self-possession, she ex. 
claimed, "I must not remain here. My pres- 
5nce is necessary to the emperor. That duty is, 
indeed, more Maria Louisa's than mine, but the 
emperor is alone — forsaken. Well, I at least 
will not abandon him. I might be dispensed 
with while he was happy ; now, I am sure that 
he expects me." After a pause of a few mo- 
ments, in which she seemed absorbed in her own 
thoughts, she addressed her chamberlain, say- 
mg, " I may, however, interfere with his ar- 
rangements. You will remain here with me 
till intelligence be received from the allied sov- 
ereigns ; they will respect her who was the wife 
of Napoleon." 

She was, indeed, remembered by them. The 
magnanimity of her conduct under the deep 
wrongs of the divorce had filled Europe with 
admiration. The allied sovereigns sent her as- 
surances of their most friendly regards. They 
entreated her to return to Malmalson, and pro- 
vided her with an ample guard for her protec- 
tion. Her court was ever crowded with the 
most illustrious monarchs and nobles, who 



?24 Josephine. {A.D. 18U, 

ComiDendatioi: of Alexander. Letter to Napoleon 



sought a presentation to do homage to her vii- 
tues. The Emperor Alexander was one of th« 
first to visit her. He said to her on that occa- 
sion, " Madam, I burned with the desire of 
beholding you. Since I entered France, I have 
never heard your name pronounced but with 
benedictions. In the cottage and in the palace 
I have collec^od accounts of your angelic good- 
ness, and I do myself a pleasure in thus pre- 
senting to your majesty the universal homage 
of which I am the bearer." 

Maria Louisa, thinking only of self, declined 
accompanying Napoleon to his humble retreat 
Josephine, not knowing her decision, wrote to 
the emperor : " Now only can I calculate the 
whole extent of the misfortune of having beheld 
my union with you dissolved by law. Now do 
I indeed lament being no more than yoxxx friend^ 
who can but mourn over a misfortune great as 
it is unexpected. Ah ! sire, why can I not fly 
to you? Why can I not give you the assur- 
ance that exile has no terrors save for vulgar 
minds, and that, far from diminishing a sincere 
attachment, misfortune imparts to it a new 
force ? I have been upon the point of quitting 
France to follow your footsteps, and to conse- 
crate to you the ren:pj»jder cyf an existence 



A..D 1814.] Divorce and l^stDavs. 325 



QluBtrious p&rty at Malmalson. Illness of Josephine^ 

which you so long embellished. A single mo- 
tive restrained me, and that you may divine. 
If I learn that I am the only one who will ful- 
rill her duty, nothing shall detain me, and 1 
■vill go to the only place where, henceforth, 
there can be happiness for me, since I shall be 
able to console you when you are there isolated 
and unfortunate ! Say but the word, and I de- 
part. Adieu, sire ; whatever I would add 
would still be too little. It is no longer by 
words that my sentiments for you are to be 
proved, and for actions your consent is neces- 
sary." 

A few days after this I'^.tter was written, the 
Emperor Alexander, with a number of illustri- 
ous guests, dined with Josephine at Malmai- 
son. In the evening twilight, the party went 
out upon the beautiful lawn in front of the 
house for recreation. Josephine, whose health 
had become exceedingly precarious through care 
and sorrow, being regardless of herself in devo- 
tion to her friends, took a violent cold. The 
Qcxt day she was worse. Without any very 
definite form of disease, she day after day grew 
more faint and feeble, until it was evident that 
her tinal change was near at hand. Eugene 
and Hortense, her most aflfectionate children, 



326 Josephine [A.D. 1814 

loeephine always desired the happiness of France. Aftectlng prajer 

were with her by day and by night. They 
communicated to her the judgment of her phy- 
sician that death was near. She heard the 
tidings with perfect composure, and called for 
a clergyman to administer to her the last rites 
of religion. 

Just after this solemnity the Emperor Alex- 
ander entered the room. Eugene and Hortense, 
bathed in tears, were kneeling at their mother's 
side. Josephine beckoned to the emperor to 
approach her, and said to him and her children, 
" I have alw^ays desired the happiness of France. 
I did all in my power to contribute to it ; and 
I can say with truth, to all of you now present, 
at my last moments, that the first wife of Na- 
poleon never caused a single tear to flow." 

She called for the portrait of the emperor ; 
she gazed upon it long and tenderly ; and theuj 
fervently pressing it in her clasped hands to her 
bosom, faintly articulated the following prayer : 

" O God I watch over Napoleon while he re- 
mains in the desert of this world. Alas I though 
rtC hath committed great faults, hath he not 
Bxpiated them by great sufferings ? Just God, 
thou hast looked into his heart, and hast seen 
by how ardent a desire for useful and durable 
improvements he was animated. Deign tt ap- 



A.D. 1811. Divorce and last Da vs. '427 



Death of Joaephine. Tribute to her memory by Alexander 



prove my last petition. And may this image 
of my husband bear me witness that my latest 
wish and my latest prayer were for him and 
my children." 

It was the 29th of May, 1814. A tranquil 
summer's day was fading away into a cloud- 
less, serene, and beautiful evening. The rays 
of the setting sun, struggling through the foli- 
age of the open window, shone cheerfully upon 
the bed where the empress was dying. The 
vesper songs of the birds which filled the groves 
of Malmaison floated sweetly upon the ear, and 
the gentle spirit of Josephine, lulled to repose 
by these sweet anthems, sank into its last sleep. 
Gazing upon the portrait of the emperor, she 
exclaimed, " L'isle d'Elbc — Napoleon!" and 
died. 

Alexander, as he gazed upon her lifeless re- 
mains, burst into tears, and uttered the follow- 
ing affecting yet just tribute of respect to her 
memory : " She is no more ; that woman whom 
France named the beneficent, that angel of 
goodness, is no more. Those who have known 
Josephine can never forget her. She dies re- 
gretted by her offsprmg, ner friends, and her 
cotemporaries." 

For four da3s her body remained shroud/iJ 



328 Josephine. (A.D. 1814 



FuDeral ceremoniea. Monumental inscription 



in state for its burial. During this time more 
than twenty thousand of the people of France 
visited her beloved remains. On the 2d of 
Iiine, at mid-day, the funeral procession moved 
from Malmaison to Ruel, where the body was 
deposited in a tomb of the village church. The 
funeral services were conducted with the great- 
est magnificence, as the sovereigns of the allied 
armies united with the French in doing honor 
to her memory. When all had left the church 
but Eugene and Hortense, they knelt beside 
their mother's grave, and for a long time min- 
gled their prayers and their tears. A beautiful 
monument of white marble, representing the 
empress kneeling in her coronation robes, is 
sreoted over her burial-place, with this simple 
t>x?.t affecting inscription : 

EUGENE AND HORTENSE 



JOSEPHINE 



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